


Bell Peppers

by morphinetune



Series: The Bell Peppers Trilogy [1]
Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Break Up, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Drama, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hispanic Character, Love, Lovers, Mental Illness, Orc/Human - Freeform, Orc/Human Relationship, POV Alternating, Past Abuse, Protectiveness, References to Depression, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Violence, bright orcs, orc boyfriend, orc love, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-07-27 06:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 137,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16213514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphinetune/pseuds/morphinetune
Summary: He knew there'd be no other that shook his world so profoundly like Callie. So why was everything still falling apart? Why couldn't he find his way back to her even when she was stood before him, with his face bloody and his heart held in her hands?





	1. Troublemaker

**Author's Note:**

> YOOOO I suck at summaries. :< This is my baby; I've been working on it for MONTHS and it all started from a fever dream when I was hallucinating and deathly ill! I hope y'all enjoy! :D to see photos of Callie and other artwork for this work, please visit my tumblr page! 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I claim no ownership to Nick Jakoby, Daryl Ward, Sherri Ward or any other people/species formally mentioned in the Netflix movie Bright. I do own Callie and other characters formally unmentioned though.

>i>“Most species  
Bare their teeth  
As a threat  
As a display  
Of aggression  
Of leadership

It is a reminder  
That these  
Clenched jaws  
Can and will  
Open your  
Yielding throat

I want you to think of this  
The next time I smile.” -b.p.

* * *

He saw her once, and that was all it took. 

Walking into that liquor store was by complete chance. The business he bought his green tea smoothies had a broken register that day, so he meandered down the street in full uniform in search of an ATM. Liquor stores always did, so Nick strolled in, eyes roaming for the kiosk. 

“Can I help you with something, officer?”

He was ready to brush it off in his hurry to get back, but when his ambers met those pools of balmy caramel, his heart hammered in his ribs, detailing the curve of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips when she grinned at him. 

_Fuck._

He’d never been one to be attracted to human girls; all the hair and makeup kind of freaked him out. But there wasn’t any on this one. That honey-golden skin didn’t need it, and surely after this, he’d never even consider looking in any humans direction again. None could match up to the allure of those big eyes and dark, lush waves framing her cheeks.

One look, and _that was it._

“No, um… ATM?” he got out, clearing his throat. She pointed towards the back. He moved, but his mind was still standing back there, studying her- admiring her. 

Scanning the store with wide eyes was a poor attempt at being canny while he waited for his money to dispense. When he found her, his eyes idled again. This time she was behind the counter, pulling her thick hair into a tie. 

_Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up._

The cash was stuffed in his pocket when he turned on his heal, but he couldn't just walk up there and stare at her. His eyes skimmed the shelves beside him. 

_Funions. Funions would do._

That was plenty to take up and buy. The vest around his chest was starting to feel too tight, so he swung his arms and rolled his shoulders to alleviate some discomfort. 

A few more steps and he was before her, and she set her phone down, her eyes meeting his once again as she smiled. 

“How’s your day goin’ so far?” she asked, scanning the bag. Tattoos on her arms- matching crosses above her elbows and what looked to be script on her inner wrists. The dark ink had settled finely in her skin. 

Nick could only shrug at first, partially distracted by the freckles on her cheeks and nose. “Can’t say it’s been bad,” he said lowly. “Yours?” he remembered to ask. 

She shrugged. “Middle of the week is always slow- 2.25,” she said. There was a pause, and Nick was drowning in her eyes. 

“Hm?” he mumbled, and she giggled.

“2.25 please,” she repeated, a dazzling smile aiding her brilliance. He scrambled to locate his wallet that he _doesn’t carry with him_ on duty, and finally recalled his _debit card_ he’d just used to get _cash._

**What the fuck was his problem?**

“Long day?” she asked. He chose to nod, directing his nervous grin downward. She finished ringing him up, her small hands gliding over the register. Nick looked around, focusing on anything but her cute face so he wouldn’t fumble again. Her T-shirt would do, his hairless brows perking up after better studying it. 

“Fan of Skeletonwitch?” he asked. 

“Favorite band. Well okay, in close competition with Kreator but the cover art wins me over. Like them?” she asked, handing his bag over. Her hand didn't recoil when his blunt fingertips brushed hers, but his eyes jumped away when they met hers again. 

“Yeah, definitely at the top of my list too,” he grinned. Her kind eyes and smile remained unwavering at the sight if his filed tusks and pointed teeth.

“Finally someone else with good taste in music,” she chimed, tossing her head to move her wavy fringe from her face. 

“Tell me about it,” he sighed. He was fixed, unmoving, unable… at least until his radio chattered loudly at his hip, making her jump. 

“Shit, sorry,” Nick mumbled, but she was giggling, smiling, a hand held on her chest. 

“Have a good day, Miss.” he told her, walking away. 

“You too, Officer Jakoby.” he heard her say. 

_Say it again_ , he thought. _Say my name again._

It was always being yelled, belittled, shamed. But she said it like it was worthy of respect. Like he was never hated. 

He strolled down the sidewalk with his back a little straighter, but his thoughts disconnected, recalling details of her smile. Was it even possible for someone to be that pretty?

“Officer!” 

He turned, and she was jogging after him. More tattoos on her thighs that he wanted to bite and run his cheeks against. 

_What the fuck-_

“Your chips,” she exhaled, handing them over. 

“Oh shit,” he said under his breath, looking at them. Had he been that distracted? “Sorry- thanks,” he stumbled, gazing at her. 

“No problem,” she smirked, lingering a moment. “See you later.” she finally said, backing up. Had she caught how his eyes flashed between her parted lips and eyes? Judging by the way she caught her bottom lip in her own smile, she had, but he could only see intrigue in her eyes. Nick watched until she entered the store again, leaving him somewhere in the clouds.

He took steps backwards, kind of hoping she’d pop back out. 

Oh shit, Ward. 

He’d left him waiting in the cruiser, and ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes’ had turned into ten. Shit, she made ten minutes feel like a breath in time. 

He looked down at the bag, sighing.

He hated Funions. 

↠

“About time,” Ward barked, still scrolling through his phone when Nick finally made it back to the cruiser with smoothie and Funions in hand. 

“Had to get cash,” he grunted as he climbed in, tossing him the chips.

Ward popped the bag and ate a ring, frowning. “These are nasty.” he snapped before eating another. 

“Uh-huh.” Nick replied mindlessly, shifting deeper into the seat, sipping his smoothie. His mind was a block away, back in that liquor store. Now little topics to chat about in hopes of keeping her interested flocked to the forefront of his mind effortlessly. She was wearing a fucking Skeletonwitch shirt- how often did he hear word of girls, let alone people in general liking that band? _Never_ , that’s how often. 

Shit. _You fucking fool_ , he scolded, mentally berating himself for possibly passing up one of the greatest opportunities in his life.

* * *

He could say he needed this or that, but he really didn’t. Ward could protest all he wanted about parking in the Barrio, but Nick wasn’t really listening. She had been like a song on repeat in his head, over and over again; revisiting her smile, and the way her voice lingered just above a tone he could imagine would be smokey, and sexy. 

So just this once he’d indulge in this fierce craving. 

“Want me to leave the windows down?” Nick asked sarcastically, earning a cold glare from Ward before exiting the cruiser. 

He shook his hands loose of the tension before stepping into the store again, and made it a point to not go looking for her outright. He already stuck out like blood in water in this neighborhood- he didn’t want her to be troubled just cause he couldn’t get his thoughts in line. 

He followed the wall of drinks, not entirely sure what he’d pick, and he glanced down isles, his hope wavering when she wasn’t down any or behind the counter. 

His mouth ran dry when he caught her figure in the last one, standing beside stacked boxes and placing items on shelves. His heart leapt again. 

Nick carried on down the aisle, eyes still on the drinks as he ambled, moving closer. She didn’t notice, just kept putting bags away. 

He didn’t like the way his stomach knotted when he stood behind her, his back to hers as he looked up and down at the flavored drinks. He listened to the crunching of bags, and a soft sigh from her as she continued. It would be odd- spinning and saying hello, probably startling her into embitterment. She didn’t even know he was there; she probably wouldn’t even remember him.

He yanked the door open and grabbed a bottle, walking to the counter. 

He bought his shit, and left, the disappointment sitting profoundly in his stomach.

* * *

“I paid last week,” Nick grumbled, turning the cruiser around another corner. 

“I paid a few days ago?” Ward challenged. Nick scoffed- this was stupid. 

“We _split_ it,”

“Even though you had more food,”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Where do you even wanna go?” 

“Hanks,” Ward said. 

“Well then you can pay cause I don’t have cash,” Nick addressed. 

“Good thing we’re right next to that liquor store again-” 

“No.” Nick snapped promptly, more so then he’d meant. It still stung when he thought of her. There’d been absolutely nothing between them but he’d felt burned all the same. 

Daryl looked him over suspiciously. Nick glared back. 

He held his fist up, and the Orc groaned. He sucked at his game. 

Rock, paper- Daryl’s rock beat his scissors. 

“C’mon, park it,” Ward ordered, ignoring Nick’s low protests. But he did, across the street from the small hole in the wall liquor store that had it’s doors closed that rainy day. He pulled his LAPD beanie from the center console and chuffed quietly at Ward, only provoking a smart grin from him. 

It was a miserable day. Cold, which Nick didn’t like unless he was home to make certain his mint and oregano plants didn’t prune. Pouring, which he loathed while he was working. With his shoulders pulled in he paced across the street and pulled the door open. It was still cold inside, so he kept the beanie to cover his easily chilled ears. 

He knew where the ATM was, and kept his eyes on that. 

Slide the card, punch some buttons, get out. 

But waiting on the cash felt like forever if it meant he might catch sight of her. It dispensed, finally. 

He spun into a smaller body that _oofed_ , taking a few steps back. 

“Oh shit I’m sorry,” he moved to help them, but was met with a familiar face looking up at him after staring at the box she’d dropped. It all came flooding back to him when she smiled, and his shoulders dropped in affection. 

“Hey!” she chimed, her fingers moving her waves behind her ears. 

“Hi- I’ll- let me help,” he stuttered, kneeling down to help push the snacks back into the small box. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, setting it upright.

“No no, that’s what I get for watching my feet while I walk,” she breathed, her hands bumping his as they struggled to stack them back up. 

“Ugh these things are the worst- you know what just throw them in there, they’re not staying anyways,” she laughed, tossing the little crackers about. That black top hugged her in all the right ways, stretching down her arms and melting into the dark jeans she wore. So close, his chest expanded in rapid succession, scenting her, the dwindling voice in his head yelling to stop only fading faster.

_Warm_ \- like scented candles. 

“To the counter?” he asked, standing with the box in his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah- over there, yeah,” she grinned. He followed, watching, enthralled with those little legs… and great ass. Warmth crept across his cheeks, and he tried to look at something else- her hair, the walls, those packs of gum. Thank god she rounded the counter so he could hand off the box.

She thanked him, placing it on the ground beside her. 

“I’m sorry- I don’t even know your name,” she said after facing him again.

“It’s Nick,” he revealed. 

_Say it._

“I’m Callie,” she extended her hand. She shook his with confidence, an unwavering grip that he didn’t expect her small hand could muster. “Nice to meet you, Nick,” she smiled. 

Was he mistaken when he heard her say it tenderly? And was it wrong he wanted to keep holding her hand, and press her palm against his cheek? 

“So were you buying anything?” she asked. _Nope._

But he grabbed a pack of gum from beside the counter, placing it before her. “Now I am,” he stated, and she smiled, forcing it down as she punched the keys on the register. Callie saw right through it, and welcomed it. Anything to keep the Orc she’d hoped to see again around a few seconds longer. 

“Enjoying the weather?” she asked. Nick surveyed the rain cascading down the wide windows of the store with an indifferent shrug. 

“Like it more if I was home,” he told her. 

“I like it, even at work. Keeps the usual weirdos home for the day,” she said through the corner of her mouth. Nick grinned. 

“That’s good for me too- my head freezes everytime I get out of the car,” he ribbed, and she giggled. 

His heart swelled, his ears twitching under the beanie. 

“I’m sorry,” she giggled. “The beanie looks cute though,” she added, flicking her head to move her fringe. 

His ears twitched again. Had he heard that correctly? Cute? Something stirred in his gut, like the flames of a fire being provoked. 

“Might have to keep wearing it if pretty girls like you think it’s cute,” Nick told, with as much confidence he could muster, but he was already panicking. His nervous side stepping showed it.

But Callie smiled widely, learning those golden eyes. 

“He’s a charmer, huh?” she asked softly, licking her lips. 

Did he have the strength to not lean over the counter and kiss her? Better yet, where was this certainty in himself coming from? These irresistible urges? Did her tongue taste like she smelled- warm vanilla? It hit him when she motioned towards him, swarming his senses and blurring his thoughts. 

“Not even, that was all I had,” he confided, fixing his head cover. 

“Well it worked handsome, I’m flushed,” she intoned, her head tilted as they gazed at one another. There went that second, then another, and a few more. She was better than a sunrise after a cold night, and there was nothing he knew about her, but deep in his lonely heart, he knew she would be everything he’d need. 

“Dude I’ve been waiting out there forever, the fuck are you doing?” Ward lashed, shoving Nick’s arm a little when he walked up on him. 

“It hasn’t even been that long,” Nick said through clenched teeth. Ward looked at Callie who was watching with wide eyes, then back at his partner. 

Nick saw it register on his face. 

“Just hurry it up.” Ward said softer, his lips pursing while he motioned secretively at Callie. Nick’s face tightened, willing him to leave faster. Looking back, she had pulled her lips in, trying to hide a smile and fixing her hair. 

“Here ya go,” She pushed the gum back to him. 

“How much?” he asked, digging in his pocket. _There goes the chemistry…_

But she shook her head. “For helping with the box,” she smirked. Nick plucked the packet from the counter with a slipped smile, meeting her all-consuming eyes. 

“See you around?” he asked, taking a step back. 

“Wander back in soon, yeah?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. 

He struggled to suppress the commotion in his heart. Sounding eager could come off as high-handed, and another person had come through the door after she’d spoken, yet his heart was sounding like drums in his ears, and he wanted to stay. So he only nodded again, walking back out into the rain. 

Callie’s gaze followed him, leaned over her counter. 

When he’d come in days before, standing behind her in the aisle, it had taken great restraint no to turn and possibly result in startling him. Her flushed cheeks and fumbling hands would’ve been a complete embarrassment, but she still willed him to turn and speak to her. So when he came in that rainy day, it was only kind of an accident they quite literally ran into each other like that. 

Before he even made it to the car, he knew there’d be questions. 

Ward was sharp. He wasn’t naive to predicaments such as his, so he was thankful enough that he’d had the decency to leave him alone so his chances weren’t utterly squandered. 

“So while you were chattin’ it up with the shorty, you left me in here starving?” he asked as soon as his door opened. Nick shrugged and sat down, keeping his eyes averted. 

Ward was still grinning at him.

“She’s cute,” he said. Nick nodded, pulling away from the curb. 

“Name?” Nick fidgeted a little. 

“Callie,” he answered. 

“You into the lil’ mamas?” Ward asked. Nick shrugged again. 

“Never been one for human, actually,” he admitted. 

“Uh-huh. Guess she like you blue boys,” he smirked. 

“You… you think?” Nick queried, apprehensively. 

“You were in there a while so she must'a been sending the signals back, right?” Ward asked. Nick nodded- he didn't even consider that. 

“Than it’s a start.” Daryl nodded, looking at his phone. 

He bit back the smile that gave him. It hadn’t crossed his mind that any of this could be the start of anything, but it was now igniting hope in his heart. 

And for the next 2 weeks, Nick became a regular at that liquor store. 

He ended up accumulating an impressive stash of snacks and drinks in the cruiser, but he also built quite the picture of Callie, which was actually short for Calista. A local girl who worked at her uncle's liquor store full-time, and who loved thrash, but could listen to anything depending on her mood. She was 27, and her best subject was math and knew fluent English and Spanish. Her favorite color was black and she hated chick flicks, but couldn’t help but indulge in those awful paperback romance novels. Running was her diversion when working in a liquor store proved to be… troublesome, and it clicked in his head why her body was so stunning.

When he’d wander into her store, intending to buy something small, they’d fall into engaging conversation. It’d often provoke a snapping from Ward or her Uncle, or a mischievous little grin from the blonde haired co-worker of hers with sharp eyes when they lagged, but it continued to happen. 

Sometimes she’d have the blonde watch the counter so they could talk out front, or he’d purposely (and cleverly) make sure Ward had food with him before ‘stopping for cash’ so he had more time. 

He didn’t know if she was just being nice, but sometimes he could get her going, her laugh unapologetically loud no matter where they were. 

A smile always greeted him, and soon a hand on his arm was common as they’d chat or when he’d leave. 

It was 2 weeks of looking forward to her daily, and learning something new. Never had he felt comfortable exposing details of himself or his life, but Callie felt wholesome. The kind of person you ran to when your world was falling apart and needed to be talked off the edge.

There wasn’t much to Nick's life besides the obvious to begin with; first Orc cop, blooded, things everyone knew from gossip. But she made him feel like his little nothings throughout were valuable- like his day was worth telling.

And with every minute that passed in her presence, Nick grew more attached; this infatuation for her swarmed his mind as abundantly as in his heart, helping him find reason to get up every day when being a cop seemed like too much in those rare moments of insecurity. A deep yearn ached in his bones for her. He wanted to hold her, and breathe in the warm vanilla of her honey-gold skin, but sometimes… he wanted to sink his teeth into her. 

When other men would make passing remarks or lay eyes on her, he wanted his mark on her. The claim his heart had put on Callie that no one else knew about made him sometimes feral, but he hid it, pushing it down, deep into his belly. If his time was coming, he could wait. 

If she felt as he did for her, then he could take his time. There was no way he was chasing her away because a more animalistic side of him fought for intimacy.

* * *

The heat and humidity had rolled in after those summer storms, and where there was heat, there was mischief. All 9 races became significantly agitated, which made his job more arduous than it already was. It had been a bitch of a day. Chasing Ogres down in dark, hot, grimy strip clubs and Brezziks (who thrived in this kind of weather) through super markets. 

Sweltering days literally fried everyone's brains- that was the only sound reason he could muster as to why everyone was acting a fool that day. 

His shift was finally winding down, and it was nice driving the cruiser alone since Daryl had ridden with another officer after the Brezzik chase. The AC blasted across him, and he’d pull his vest from his chest so the cold air could seep between. It wasn’t on his route, but it gave him peace of mind to pass Callie’s store. They’d had a few break ins in the past, so the extra eye didn't hurt. 

Turning the dark corner, it was quiet. Close to midnight, liquor stores were the only places open in neighborhoods like this. Soon the sweet scents of doughnuts and buñuelo from panaderías would start wafting into the streets in the early morning hours, bringing people in before they departed for work. For now, it was the sounds of families restless from the humid night going about their lives, their homes atop the numerous businesses that lined the sleepless street. 

Contrary to what other officers had told him about patrolling the barrio, Nick had come to find that violence rarely plagued this humble neighborhood. Every corner of LA had their equal share of violence, but the worse he’d bared witness to here was domestic disputes, sometimes brawls after particularly nasty car crashes. A completely different way of life he found comforting, almost, even if the families that kept this town afloat didn’t accept him entirely. 

It meant he didn’t really feel the demand to scan cautiously as he drove. Few people patted about the sidewalks-

_Huh._

From behind, that girl looked a lot like Callie. Same hair, but she was beside a man. Tall, thin, clothes unusually baggy and a low slung backpack bouncing off his ass when he’d walk. Nick cocked a brow, slowing a little. 

She didn't look to be too happy about this man's company when she turned, attempting to yank her arm from his hold and yelling.

Holy fuck, it _was_ Callie. 

Adrenaline flooded him, and he whipped the cruiser around when she freed her elbow from the man's grip. 

Lights and siren turned them both, and Nick was stepping between them in a few wide steps after leaving his door open in a haste. 

She looked pissed, but he could smell the anxiety rolling off her when he stood between them.

“What’s going on here?” Nick asked. She looked around his arm. 

“Nah, nothin’ bro I was just walkin’ with my girl here,” Ugh, he barely had any teeth, and the oils and sweat on his skin reeked, not to mention the stains on his clothing at closer inspection. 

“Fuck you I’ve never met you in my life!” she hollered, stepping around Nick. It startled him, but he kept her at bay. 

“Oh c’mon-” he tried to move at her again, but Nick stepped forward, a deadly protectiveness in his eyes stopping the man. 

“Get on your way,” Nick ground out, his hand resting on his gun. 

The man scoffed, trying to size Nick up. 

“Or what, Orc? The fuck can you do?” he taunted, smiling. 

“More than a 5 years for possession of more than 5 grams of cocaine,” Nick replied, calmly, silencing the dealer. Nick really should've been in narcotics; his sense of smell could pick up on the smallest details- even encounters of numerous people that had touched one object- especially the bundles in this mans bag that perfumed the sickly sweet stench of crack. 

“You don’t know shit,” he rasped, taking another step. 

“It’s coming out of your pores. Walk this street again and I’ll make sure you don't see daylight for years.” 

A pause, the dealer evaluating the cops words, and then he backed away, the stash in his backpack untouched and his future spared when all Nick was pound his skull into the pavement for touching her.

Callie looked up at him, waiting. 

He didn't turn away until he couldn’t smell the ether anymore, but when he came face to face with Callie, he was almost knocked off his feet.

The vanilla of her skin was hotter, tickling the back of his throat like fine spice. She was _aroused_ , and it was crippling his ability to think straight. 

It evoked that feral side of him. He breathed deeper, his tongue lapping the roof of his mouth to taste that hot, thick stirring in her body. Nick cleared his throat, but her parted lips and big eyes starry with excitement weren't making it any easier. He could've snapped the straps to that camisole faster than she’d notice; could’ve peeled those tight jeans from her thighs quicker than he could load his gun.

“You- you’re okay?” he asked, the growl in his voice raising goosebumps across her skin.

“Yeah, he scratched my arm,” she sighed, blinking the haze away, pulling from those brilliant golden eyes that basically undressed her where she stood. 

It wasn’t severe, but anything could've been under those nails that made a sizable score on her forearm that was already red in irritation. 

That cleared him up a little. 

“Oh shit,” Nick cursed. “C’mere,” he pulled her gently to the back of his cruiser, pulling the gate open to find the small kit they kept. It was lowering- the burn in her stomach to push him into an alley and ravish him, but she liked how his big hands felt on her skin. Warm and rough, strong but careful. 

But the disinfectant stung like a bitch, making her wince. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, wiping the cut.

“You fall from the sky like that often?” she smirked, and he snorted. 

“That’s a first for me actually,” he said, watching the small bubbles pool around the cut. Already killing early infection- good thing he had the kit.

“What’re you doing down here then?” she asked, wincing again. 

“Checkin’ on your temperamental ass,” he told her, hiding a grin when she smacked his arm. 

“Don’t like that I can fend for myself?” she asked. 

“I do,” he paused. He’d seen first hand how she could handle belligerent assholes who thought they could push her around in store, and had heard the viper tongue come forth when fury overtook her usual playful demeanor. “But you need something to backup that fighter in you,” he told her, peeling a large bandaid apart. 

“Do I? When I got a big, handsome Orc checking on me?” she asked, her playful smile making his ears twitch when she half stepped closer. 

“Shut up, little troublemaker,” he muttered, hiding his bashfulness. Carefully he pasted the band aid across the cut, squeezing for added resistance. 

Callie twisted her arm to test the flexibility. All felt well. She pushed off the back of the SUV, rubbing her arms when a stiff breeze rolled by. He moved stuff around, but he was admiring again. He’d only caught glimpses of the clean lineart of the mermaid tattoo on her arm that reached her elbow, and the ‘Lover’ on her other shoulder, but dressed in that thin strapped shirt- hoo. A work of art, she was. 

His brows pulled together. 

“What’re you even doing walking around this late?” he asked, closing the gate. 

“Night shift,” she sighed. The wind kicked those waves around her cheeks, but she pushed them back. 

“Barrio never sleeps,” he commented. She chuckled. 

“Go home, grow those bell peppers you promised me,” she teased, her big eyes boring into his as they stepped onto the sidewalk. 

Nick watched her back up. 

_Get back here._

“Want a ride?” 

She blinked, cocking a brow. 

“It’s just down the street,” she said half heartedly, trying to resist jumping at the opportunity. 

“Enough distance for you to get yourself into some nonsense again,” he said smartly.

“Can’t you get in trouble for having someone in the car?” 

“Oh yeah,” 

“Do you even care?”

“Not really,” 

She looked the cruiser over with intrigue. She nodded, and he was sly about doing a once over of the street in case another cop happened to be around. He opened the door for her, and she touched his arm before climbing in. 

Her eyes were everywhere. The laptop and controls at the center, the altered seats, the shotgun between them. 

As he moved around the front, she watched him, namely those big shoulders she wanted to feel under her hands. Callie pulled her hair over her shoulders and fixed her tight shirt. 

“If I say, duck down,” he played; she tittered. With a shift of the gears, he pulled back onto the street. He could see her looking around still, her hands fiddling and tempted to touch something as she scanned. 

“Doesn’t seem fair that people get pulled over for changing the song on their phones-”

“But cops have a laptop in front of them?” he finished, glancing at her. “Can’t tell you how many times I've heard that,” he added. 

Her eyes were back on the shotgun, studying its size. 

“They’re blanks,” he commented. 

“I’ll remember that next time I wanna outrun a cop,” 

“Like you could,” he chuckled. 

“Hey, I’d make a great criminal!” she smacked the back of her hand against his arm. 

“Batting those big eyes of yours doesn’t always work,” he said. 

“Nah, that only works on you, huh?” she asked, leaning a little closer to him. Nick looked at her. She was right; those eyes were the direct result of countless times he’d fumbled and bitten his inner cheek shyly, and she knew it. There were moments she’d bump his arm or lean against him while he steadied his rampant thoughts, easing her relentless flirting, just for those few seconds. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled again tenderly, but that was his admittance. The cruiser stopped in front of the store. A few people inside, probably buying their pints. 

“Gonna stop in for more gum?” she said, sticking her tongue out a little. He scoffed. 

“Get outta here- and get a pepper spray or something, please.” he insisted.

When she leaned over the controls between them and gave him a lingering kiss on his cheek, she felt the low, steady rumble from his chest. The reaction was uncontrolled, embarrassing, but the look she gave him was pure covet after reclining just enough so she could see the nature of his eyes. 

Fuck. He wanted to taste those full lips. 

“Thanks, Nick.” she said softly, catching his eyes as they darted down to take in the image of her chest leaned over, her breasts just rested in that camisole. Her reaction hit his senses again, but he closed his eyes, his forehead bumping hers. 

He could almost feel how wet her passage would be around his fingers. 

So he only nodded, languidly, looking back up when she moved back and stepped out of the car. A departing smile was what he was left with before she walked away, and the warmth on his cheek. 

He could’ve turned and caught her mouth against his; part of him screamed he should’ve, but what if that was as far as she wanted to go? It was another step, but the farther they got into this teasing, flirty thing they had, the stronger his urges beckoned him to make a move. 

The way he could smell her blood reacting- rushing to places that engorged on him alike was a definite sign, but did she want this slow? Or to be pushed against a wall? 

Nick exhaled hard. This girl would be the death of him. He shifted into drive-

“Nick!”

His foot stomped the brake.

“What? What’s wrong?” he panicked, watching her run around the SUV to his window. 

She looked frantic, and had already put her hair up. 

“Can I have your number?” she finally exhaled. His ears twitched, and the disbelief she must’ve seen in him made her smile. 

“Really?” he expressed. She nodded happily, patting the pockets of her jeans. She looked down. 

“Oh fuck my phone- shit!” she hissed. 

Callie looked at his arm and plucked one of the pens from the holder on his bicep. “Gimme your hand,” she said, and she wrote on his palm after reaching over. He hoped they weren’t sweaty as she scribbled against his hand.

She curled his fist, pushing it back to him and carefully slipping the pen back on his arm. “Text me, yeah?” she asked, her wide smile making him. 

“Definitely.” he told her, and she ran around the car and back into the store. 

Nick looked down at his hand. 

He recalled her having told him before about having the handwriting of a serial killer… and she really did. He could barely make out the numbers, but still stared at her name, and the messy loops of the double l’s.

Nick kept his palm up the rest of the drive, until he could enter the number into his phone once he’d parked at the station, but then he was stuck, shielding his phone when he put a little rose next to her name. 

His thumbs tapped the screen, over the cursor when he opened a new message. 

Then a few minutes rolled by until he finally typed something, and sent it with a deep breath. 

**Troublemaker?**

* * *

* * *


	2. Santa Monica

Her phone had vibrated in her pocket, and she figured it was Nick, but walking into work that night had only been lasting chaos. A couple drunks, a shelf knocked over, the usual stocking and then cleaning- it had left her no time alongside her uncle who was just as busy. 

The night was finally winding down, however the packs of cigarettes that refused to fit in their aisles were taking up valuable time until she forced them in, disregarding the dented cartons. With her phone slid into her pocket, she swung around the counter. 

“Tio I’m on break!” she called, hurrying away

He raised his hands to protest, but she was halfway out.

She almost threw her phone in her haste to yank it from her jeans when she made it outside, sitting at the old chair behind the store she spent the majority of her breaks at. 

**Troublemaker?**

She beamed, pulling her feet up to cross her ankles. 

 

It had to be a dud number. What motive she’d have for doing such a thing he couldn’t even perceive, but what other reason would explain why his message had gone unread? Nick picked at his food on the counter in his kitchen, but it was bland, and growing colder the longer he let it sit on his counter.

His hand pulled down his face. This stung something awful. 

He could never again show his face down there, and maybe go as far as to avoid that entire block. She was probably telling everyone-

The phone vibrated loudly on the countertop, but his reach misshot, and his knuckles hurled against the edge. He hissed, shaking his knuckles as his other grabbed the phone. 

**Officer Jakoby?**

He exhaled vehemently. Had his stomach wound so tightly during the wait to now leave him nauseous? Nick didn’t wait to reply. 

 

**Am i interrupting your work?**

He took another bite of his food. A little better this time around, and his phone alarmed. 

**Not even- just had some stuff to do but now it’s slow. Made it home safe?**

 

Callie drummed her blunt nails against her knee, her foot hung off the seat of her chair, staring at her phone. _Bzzzz._

**Yeah, along with my nasty take-out**

 

Nick almost dropped his phone when it pulsed between his chin and chest, balancing a remote, drink and food in his hands. 

**See now if you woulda just stayed and hung out i couldve told you about at least 10 different places that are always guaranteed to have good food. Loser**

“Liavavle aukukhole,” he mumbled, smirking, his thumbs typing. 

 

**My deepest apologies, i dont know what i was thinking. Jerk**

She cackled. 

**I guess i’ll let this one time slide… only if i get my bell peppers soon. Whatre you up to?**

 

He reclined into his plush couch, the TV lighting up his dark living room, and his phone rarely leaving his hand in the hours that passed. Well into 3 AM, the two went back and forth, revealing, learning, flirting. 

His Callie girl who liked to dance on the weekends with her sisters sometimes performed at live events, and helped teach at a local studio. She lived alone in her small one bedroom apartment with a decent balcony that she wanted to keep plants across, but recognized she couldn’t even keep a flower alive. She took the bus everywhere because she hated the thought of spending money on parking when there was none to begin with in LA, but claimed she could drive any car ranging from a Yugo to a long bed truck _with_ a trailer. 

And he could hear her laugh- her contagious, unapologetically loud laugh- in his ears perfectly every time he managed an awful joke, and he could picture her big eyes wide with wonder anytime their conversation grew serious. He felt no hesitation telling her of darker corners in his heart that many didn’t know of, or of tougher days he still found joy in when he’d stop by her little liquor store. When they both confessed to past mistakes, he could almost catch how soft her voice would be when she assured him over the screen of a phone that he wasn’t wrong for being angry at the world. He was so often angry, but she made him know it was okay, and it didn’t need to stay locked away. 

He could visualize her soft skin under his rough hands when she told him she favored lotion over perfume, and it helped him better understand why she smelled so fucking enticing. 

And he could taste the punch of her arousal when his mind wandered, recalling how it pierced his thoughts

It was wrong. She was so kind, and so fucking gorgeous, and it was just _flirting_ … but she nudged something, buried deep in his heart. An ache never worked loose. A yearn he’d never felt more powerfully for someone; not to any of the harmless crushes or one night stands that cluttered his past. But for now, he pushed it down. 

For those hours, he drank in all she offered until he was fighting sleep, sprawled across his bed and staring at his phone that still seemed too bright despite being on the lowest setting. 

 

Callie glared with conviction down at her phone on the countertop, her fingers rapping beside it. 

How could she go about executing this? She skimmed the huge stream of messages they’d exchanged for hours, looking for anything he might've said to help encourage her next move.

 

Nick kept one eye open, fighting the lull of sleep when his phone buzzed. 

**Can i ask you something?**

 

Callie waited. Was the waiting the appropriate time to move onto the next second in her head when she started counting the seconds that passed? Cause at 15 seconds, she was sure a few minutes had gone by after deliberating with her own thoughts. 

**What's up?**

She held her breath.

**I was going to ask if you’d go on a date with me?**

The phone could’ve cracked from how forcibly she placed it face down. With her face held in her palms, she stared, again waiting.

 

Nick hadn’t been blind to the teasing and flirting for the weeks leading up to this moment, but he still found himself in disbelief. A date? _Really?_

_She_ wanted that? 

 

It was a mistake- _you scared him away!_

Callie bounced her leg fleetly as opposed to banging her head against something; that had been too soon, too stupid, stupid, stupid-

But the phone buzzed. 

**Guy is supposed to ask that first… but yes of course**

She let go of her breath, her body falling boneless. The commotion in her stomach was both welcomed and troublesome, but it made her confidence rise, stepping from a level that had dipped considerably after asking him for his number. Can’t overload...

 

**Well then you can ask next time ♡**

Nick was as excited as he was dumbfounded, silently wondering how he had managed to get this far. Nevertheless, the smile hurting his cheeks was unending. 

 

**Well this one is still my treat. Where would you like to go?**

Callie pondered. 

**I hadnt really thought of that :I**

 

He snorted. “Dork.” 

 

**Well you think on it, I'm about to pass out. I'll talk to you soon. Gnight Troublemaker**

He laid his phone beside him, but seeking sleep now seemed worthless with all the possibilities swimming circles in his head. 

 

She smiled at her phone, replying: **goodnight ♡**

Callie smothered her face in her hands and she swallowed nervous giggles.

Meandering down the street that night, she hadn’t expected Nick to swoop in and, for all intensive purposes, rescue her. But seeing him so aggressively protective… she knew Orcs had heightened senses; could he tell she was longing to get her hands on him? 

Callie shook her head. “Fucking pervert,” she cursed at herself.

* * *

Three days on, the texting was unending. 

It was easy to pick up where one would stop if work or regular life interfered, but shifting to different topic was also seamless all the same. 

 

“How’d’you spell chonies?” Nick asked, reclined in his chair with his legs stretched under the table. 

Wards brows pulled together, his cheek full of food. Lunch break was almost over, and Nick had barely touched his meal after they’d sat in the stations cafeteria. 

“That the shorty from the store?” Ward asked. Nick nodded. 

“Strawberry chonies?” the Orc mumbled, his ears heating up. 

“The fuck are you two talkin’ about?” his partner ordered, but Nick stuffed his phone away, sitting up to take a bite. 

 

“Ch _ooo_ nies?” Callie sounded out, the grin on her face impish. 

“The cop again?” Ashely asked, walking by with a clipboard in hand.

“Still can’t figure out where to go,” Callie called when the blonde moved to the back of the store. 

“Not even just like… dinner?” Ashely asked after surveying a few items, coming back to lean against the front counter and point to a pack of cigarettes behind Callie. 

“That’s boring. We both wanna do something fun,” she responded, ringing up the carton and grabbing Ashely’s cash when handed to her.

“Even those ones where they do the cooking in front of you?” she tried, moving aside so a woman could place her numerous snacks down. 

Callie shook her head, counting the items. 

“What about a show? I’ve heard Orc pits are fun,” Ashely piped, packing her cigarettes. 

“No smoking!” Callie’s uncle called from the back. 

“I’m not!” Ashely yelled back, startling the chubby woman beside her. She still stuck a butt between her lips. “Do you even think he goes to shows?” she asked curiously. 

Callie shook her head again, scanning the snacks. 

“He’s more laid back. Thrashes in privacy,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows. The girls giggled. 

“Animals,” 

Callie’s hands paused, hoping she’d heard wrong. “Excuse me?”

The woman- short, makeup that needed better matching to her tone and did not need anymore from mountain of snacks she was buying- adjusted her shirt, and held her sides in false confidence. 

“They’re not human. It’s unnatural to be in relations with them,” she spoke meticulously, as if she’d had this planned. Callie scoffed, bagging her items. She usually knew better than to entertain people like this, but this subject she had before swept away rather easily held a closeness to her heart now.

“They live by clan law. They’re no smarter than animals, that’s why they have lower class jobs,” the woman added. 

“Woah, that’s so-” Ashely started to say. 

“You do realize how moronic you sound, right?” Callie asked, her mocking tone obviously aggravating her. The woman was appalled, a little dramatically. With her hand on her chest and taking a step back, she acted as if Callie had smacked something from her hand. 

_“Excuse me?”_

“The only reason they have lower class jobs is because people like you decided long ago they ‘didn’t have the brains’ even though they’re no different from anyone else. But I guess if it ain't white it ain't right, huh?”

“Callie.” 

All three looked back at her uncle, his jaw clenched. But Callie’s eyes were challenging, ready to throw down. 

“You oughta fire this little-” the woman started, her lip shaking. 

“Señora either finish buying your food or leave.” he replied coolly. Her choice was obvious when she stormed out, muttering under her breath. But then the heat was on Callie. 

“Calista?” he said her name in that tone; the ‘why do you keep doing this’ tone. 

“Did you hear what she said?” Callie hissed, Ashely nodding along with her. 

“That doesn’t mean-”

“Someone’s gotta shut them up!” 

“Not in my store, regardless of who you’re dating this week,” 

The words caught in her throat, unknowing what to defend first. Her morals, or the blatantly false claim on her love life? Regardless, she was riled, and flustered.

He sighed, running his hand over his greying hair. “Your shifts up, go home,” he told her. 

“I still have an hour,” 

“Just go.” he ordered, walking away. 

Ashely looked at her. Callie tried to keep her shoulders squared, but her silence and downcast eyes were all telling as she grabbed her bag, resting it over her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” Ashely said softly, brushing her arm when she rounded the corner. 

Her easily antagonised manner was usually easy to manage; often she could bottle it up and run it out, but a complete stranger belittling an entire race like that was too much to suppress. If she just knew how tender Nick was… 

_No she wouldn't. She'd still be heartless._

Almost the end of the day and the street was rousing for the weekend, the warm weather drawing people out to barbeque. It only aided her tenseness- made her hair cling to her neck and bare shoulders, but tying it up did little. Wrong day to wear jeans even if they were rolled up on her ankles. She walked lazily down the street, her eyes roaming for that bitch, but she must’ve had enough sense to run off. Irritation like this that latched on like a tic was the worst. She needed a drink.

Or good company. 

Callie pulled her phone from her back pocket. 

 

**When are you off tonight?**

“Dude put the phone down,” Ward groaned, turning the cruiser down a boulevard. 

“I don’t say anything when you argue with Sherri,” Nick retorted, daring to look at his irritated partner. That could’ve escalated, but Nick was relieved it settled at that. Besides, this text had a very intriguing sense to it. 

“You lag on that paperwork and I’ll murder you.” Ward chaffed.

 

**Bout an hour, why?**

She sat at the bus stop, her knee starting to bounce.

**If youre up for it, i could go for that date?**

 

“Shut up,” Nick grumbled. 

“I’m serious!” Ward yelled, a devious smile on his face. 

“She’s not like that!”

“Pfft, whatever man, you don’t know that. What’ya gonna do if she starts touchin’ on you, huh?” Ward asked, elbowing him. “Gonna push her off?” Ward added, nudging him again. Nick tossed his arms a little. 

“ _No_ ,” he finally admitted, struggling to focus on replying.

“Hold her still and massage her inside with every inch of you-” Ward started to say, wiggling his body in the drivers seat. 

“I DON’T NEED A SEX TALK,” Nick yelled, his bewildered glare only making Daryl laugh. 

“Nothin’ wrong with a little advice, my dude.” Ward finished, pleased with himself. 

“I don’t need any, thanks.” Nick grumbled. It was little, but the experience he had covered basics. 

**What do you have in mind?**

↠

Nick didn’t like that she’d be taking the bus all the way to the pier, but she hadn’t given him any say in the matter when she boarded the bus before even waiting for him to confirm their plans. 

His hands tightened around the steering wheel. 

Their first date, and he was already running behind. Like hell he’d show up in his sweats right out of work. The heat prevented him from wearing the jeans he thought looked best, and the way this shirt hugged his biceps and pecs bothered him. Nick rotated his arms in irritation after exiting his truck, meandering through the parking lot. She said the entrance, but crowds were moving in both directions around it and she was small enough to be easily concealed, so he pulled out his phone.

 

“Bueno?” she answered. 

“I can’t find you,” 

She smiled; he sounded exasperated. “I’m at the entrance, standing in the middle,” she told him, standing on her tippy toes to look over heads of people. 

“Well then I’ll never find you,” he teased. 

“Hold on, lemme-” she pulled the phone away as she squeezed through people until she stood under a street light.

“Okay, streetlight to the right,” she said, scanning, scanning…

Callie thought he should’ve been on the cover of some magazine looking like that; the dark shirt was tight in all the best spots. What excuse could she conjure up to get her hands on him? He hadn’t caught sight of her yet, which gave her extra time to drink that image in. 

She also couldn’t help thinking he’d fit perfectly between her thighs.

“Turn left,” she told him, and smiled when he finally saw her. 

God damn. 

Sometimes he worried when she’d wear those camisoles. He’d caught men taking in an eyeful with their jaws loose, but right now, he couldn’t get enough. And with those jeans? The dark ones with the small holes on the thighs and the wide back pockets he’d thought of slipping his hand into if they ever walked a street together? As long as men gropped with their eyes, she’d need a bodyguard looking like that.

“Get distracted by another girl?” she asked when he was close enough.

“Yeah there was one who looked almost exactly like you, ‘cept she was a lot nicer,” he shrugged, stepping onto the curb. 

“Asshole,” she chuckled before he wrapped his big arms around her shoulders, pulling her against him. 

“That’s what you get for asking about the fuzzy handcuffs,” he replied, feeling her laugh. 

The spice of her skin engulfed him like warm water. 

He knew other Orcs could smell her excitement at passing breaths, and it only made him want to bury himself in her; to stake his claim, no matter how ashamed he felt thinking of her so animalistically. 

He flattened his face against her hair, canvassing just how small she was. Sturdy like iron when she curled her arms around his waist, but still at the mercy of his raw power that he withheld. Goosebumps fired up his spine when her hands smoothed along the muscles of his back, indulging in the chiseled tissue. 

“Ready to go in?” he asked, nuzzling her cheek to evoke a giggle. 

“You mean ready to ride some roller coasters?” she muffled against his shoulder.

“Uh oh.” He let her pull him by the hand towards the crowds of people.

↠

She’d told him before that she had a thing for roller coasters, but he couldn’t have comprehended that ‘thing’ meant seven rides between two coasters back to back. Even if they were both delirious and increasingly nauseous with every brain shaking turn of the cart, she convinced him to go again and again. Only the gluttonous side of him didn’t mind it; her laugh-like screams and the way she clung to him when the ride dropped was the payoff. 

“This is one of those rides you see in Final Destination where the chains snap and you go flying into a bed of spikes that just _happen_ to be sitting nearby,” he noted, looking up at the swing seats spinning in wide circles above them as they waited in line. 

“We’ll get double seats so if we die, at least it’s together!” she grinned. He scoffed as she pulled him along when the line started to move. 

He managed to keep her away only after his brain was spinning in his skull, both of them stumbling and laughing towards the merchandise booths and through the crowds of people who were equally coaster drunk. They wound through the tables and she chatted his ear off, her arm sometimes looped around his when she just had to show him something. Her lithe hands drifted over necklaces and hairpieces made by hand, marveling at their intricate designs. 

The leather barrette she sampled and pulled her waves into unveiled the freckles on her cheeks and jaw, and he could see her soaking under the sun with him in his backyard, laughing, smiling.

But when she pulled him towards a photobooth hidden amongst tables, the fuzzy feelings dissipated. 

“Nope, nope- let’s go to the games,” he said. Pushing by her would’ve been effortless. Even when she yanked back on his arm, he merely dragged her along.

“Please please, c’mon!” she pleaded, kicking and bellowing with laughter when he swooped down to pick her up over his shoulder. 

“I’m not giving in this time,” he told her, holding her thighs as she kicked and laughed, struggling to speak through it.

Photos were not something he enjoyed. There was little of him in family albums after he was around seven, and even taking them at the DMV made him want to shy away. After his face had been plastered across news stations and every available platform of social media, he could’ve done with never looking in the mirror again. 

Still- maybe from the way the lights of the ferris wheel illuminated her big eyes, or how her dazzling smile could bring him to his knees- he was sat in the booth, leaning over to hide behind her before the flash blinded them.

So that was the first photo, capturing her loud laugh forever. 

By the next one, he was chortling when she reached to cover his eyes, and made it in time to wrap his arm behind her shoulders to covers hers. 

But his caution rose. He questioned who was watching and snickering at the little screen outside, so he hid his face against her. She laughed again, her head thrown back, and that was the last one taken. 

Each got a copy, and that overall uncomfortable experience proved worth it when he gazed down at them. His locker at work was barren, so this would give it some life.

“You hid your face!” she wailed, the strip held carefully in her hands. 

“Defense mechanism.” he mumbled, receiving a smart grin from her. 

“So I guess selfies don’t often happen?”

He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. Callie could see the rigidity in his shoulders, his lack of response saying more than words would.

They wandered after that, conversing non-stop once he’d come back out his shell, sharing a cold beer and bumping shoulders every other step. Her eyes would sparkle brighter when her curiosity spiked, sometimes leaning her chin against his arm to catch his line of sight. Too many times he resisted swooping down and kissing her.

“Okay, I have a theory that I’ve formulated throughout the night,” she stated before finishing the last of their beer. “And you’re gonna tell me if I’m right,”

“Oh boy,” She elbowed him, clearing her throat. 

“You’re blooded, but not to a lesser known clan,” she started. Nick looked at her. That could’ve been known through rumor, but he still nodded, thinking she really wasn't the type of girl to be too involved in social media, but liquor stores were breeding grounds for passing gossip.

“Fogteeth?” she asked. He paused, but nodded again. 

“How’d you get blooded to the Fog-,” but he hushed her. This wasn’t something he wanted to be public amongst humans. The criticism that followed the only Orc cop being blooded to a gang like the Fogteeth could, maybe even would, be overwhelming. 

“Okay, but how?” 

“Long story, really,” Was what he chose, but she blew air between her lips. 

“You owe me that one in private,” she decided. 

“How’d you figure it out?” His own curiosity getting the better of him. 

“They’ve been the only ones to nod at you instead of glare,” 

“Could’ve just been coincidence,” he tried. She looked at him with half lidded eyes and her mouth in a flat line. 

“With that kind of back-up you could be demanding a lot more respect,”

“You earn respect, not demand it,”

“Yeah how’s that working out for you?” she asked, a sly grin egging him on.

“You’re an asshole,” He gently pushed her, but she came back at him like a rubber band, snaking an arm around his waist. 

“I’m just saying- people are too shallow and _stupid_ to have the same morals as you. You want respect, show ‘em you deserve it,” she said softer, patting his his chest. Nick’s hairless brow rose, hanging his arm around her neck.

“Just loaded with wisdom, aren’t you?” he asked, craning his wrist to tug on a wavy lock. 

“Impatience, actually. Unwilling to deal with bullshit,” she nodded, snuggling the side of her head against him. “I’m over trying to be nice to people who can’t be bothered to be decent people. You know what’s bullshit?” she shifted quickly, stepping ahead so she could walk backwards before him. 

“One of my aunts used to tell us if someone was mean to us, even if they hit us, to tell them we’d pray for them and that God loved them,”

Nick even faltered some, rolling his eyes before forcing laughter. 

“ _Isn’t that bullshit_? If you’re gonna decide right away you don’t like me and you wanna fuck with me- fine! Watch me walk away with a smile though cause there isn’t shit you can say that’s gonna faze me,” she proudly ranted, shoulders squared and hands on her hips. 

“I agree,” Nick stated, but then she stopped. 

“Then why don’t you stick up for yourself?”

That blindsided him. “Who says I don’t?”

“Your anger. The way you keep your eyes down whenever you come in the store,” she said softer, tilting her head when he looked away. 

“Except when I’m looking for you,” he murmured. 

“Your eyes need to be up all the time. Don’t give anyone the chance to look down on you,” she told him, and he raised his chin like she did hers. “Fuck whoever doesn’t like you. Would you really wanna be around someone starting off like that?”

Nick shook his head, a little wonderstruck. “Good thing I have you before I turn my back on the world.” 

Callie closed the gap between them, and he had her sides just as she’d stretched to kiss him. “Always,” she devoted softly, kissing him again. All at once, everything silenced. There were no snarls in his mind, always reminding him to be less Orc. There was no stiffness in his shoulders, constantly drawn in to assure no one brushed his rough skin. 

There was only Callie, and her hands smoothing across his face when he moaned longingly against her. There was only her soft breath against his mouth when he enveloped her, bringing her up. He could taste the raspados on her tongue when she snuck past his lips, tracing his pointed teeth. Nick groaned, his skin raising when her hands flittered down his sides. 

Her face looked so small in his palms like this, his thumbs stroking under her eyes, watching how they darkened between every soft kiss. 

“Hey! Hey do you need a ride?” came a female voice, and then a hand around Callie’s arm, pulling her away from Nick. 

“Woah what?” Callie asked, pulling back against her grip. _Did that really just happen?_

“Yeah if you need a ride or just want someone to walk with you maybe?” the younger woman asked. Thin, pretty no doubt, but her sour teeth and damaged hair was grisly, to say the least. The man beside her was of the same appearance, and she could see the old stains on his clothing.

“No no, I’m okay,” Callie consoled, stepping back towards Nick who had moved after her, but the girls grip was substantial even when she tried to wiggle her elbow free.

“No c’mon! Let’s take you home!” 

Callie huffed. She largely appreciated the gesture and was glad the stranger was looking out for her fellow women, but Callie wanted nothing more than to just be left alone with her Orc.

“I said I’m _fine_ ,” she said bitterly, desperately trying to convey that she was under no threat. She reached back, her hand searching, and found Nick’s. 

“She said she’s good,” Nick said. His hand parted theirs, and he pulled Callie closer with an arm around her shoulders.

“You don’t need to speak for her,” the woman snapped at Nick. 

The growl that ripped from behind his bared teeth was loud in her ear, but it sent a clear message. A mixed reaction flickered across both of the strangers faces, and they took the cautionary steps back Nick had wanted.

“You can go now,” Callie said. Appreciation was gone; she was just bugged now. 

“C’mon she’s not coming with.” the man said, bumping the woman's arm. She was shaking her head at Callie who proudly held Nick’s arms around her. Had the compassion from just a few seconds ago blundered away so swiftly just because she favored an Orcs company?

“You know people will assume you’re an Orcs whore-.”

“Kylie shut up!” he snapped, yanking on her arm. 

“Saausan ukomeavhaumn eluke agh jiak'll avear your jawuk parmab!” Nick hollered. Pushing past Callie almost knocked her off her feet, and he nearly bumped chests with the woman before her man stepped between them, hesitantly at that. 

“Nick- no, no!” Callie struggled to pull him back. He was a solid wall of muscle that chuffed and growled lowly, shrinking the couple before him. People started to stop and watch, some veering away from them, others shielding their children or clinging to their own couple. The fellow tried to yell over Nick’s booming voice, but he slipped heatedly between English and Orkish, allowing no room for anymore interruptions.

Callie managed to push him back, literally using her own body to block him, but the shouting still flew over her shoulder.

“We were just trying to be nice!” Kylie whined, her elbow looped around her lovers. 

“Yeah but you weren’t offering the kinda ride I was looking for,” Callie smiled, patting Nick’s thigh for added point. He was oblivious- completely overtaken by rage. 

“God, you’re such a-”

“Shut up- veta a la verga!” Callie swatted them away. The couple anxiously moved back, pushing past bystanders that were too nosey to bother looking from their phones as they recorded the altercation. 

_Their phones._

Too many out, and far too many on Nick who was still heated. If no one recognized the only Orc cop in the states now, it would only take the duration of the night to identify him.

“C’mon we gotta go,” she said quickly, pushing back on him. “Nick let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEEEE it's developiiiiiiiiiing! Fridays are gonna be the new update days! n_n thanks for reading! 
> 
> Translations: (I used an online Orc speech translator called 'Black Speech Translator' on lingojam
> 
> -Liavavle aukukhole: "Little asshole."  
> -Saausan ukomeavhaumn eluke agh jiak'll avear your jawuk parmab!: "Say something again and I'll tear your jaws off!"
> 
> Just in case:  
> -Veta a la verga!: "Go fuck yourself!"


	3. Apartment 7

The rage diminished further with every step, his vision starting to clear. The red bled away from his vision slower than it had seeped in, slowly bringing him from beneath a wave of fury. 

_Orcs whore._

Crossover couples, as they were called, weren’t unheard of, but to hear of them lasting was rare. Relations with anyone that wasn’t your species was sickening, ridiculed, and most of the pairs that made families were eventually broken apart from harassment alone. 

It had the ire rising in his throat again just thinking of anyone calling her a whore, but it was because of him. Guilt came in the dissipating wake of anger. Was he getting her into something troublesome, maybe even dangerous? The thought of cutting this before it even became anything substantial sat like stones in his gut, but she was still here, even though she could’ve ran. 

So he held her hand as tightly, eventually matching her pace before taking lead and pulling her between parked cars, all the way to his truck at the far end of the lot. 

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, pulling back on him. His hairless brows furrowed. 

“What?”

“When I said stand up for yourself I didn’t mean-” 

“That was different,” he interrupted. 

She flipped that around a couple times in her head. “Like in comparison to what people say at work?” she asked, leaning to catch his downcast gaze. 

“No- _this_ was different,” 

“Why?” He swallowed. 

“I can take when they talk shit about me, but not you,” he answered. 

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle it, regardless if my muscle isn’t there to back me up,” she grinned. Nick scoffed, but the seriousness ebbed back.

“Hey, look at me, look,” she beckoned to him, her hands on his face. “Don’t listen to them. Don’t walk away with those feelings. Stay here with me,” She lulled. Nick exhaled. Stomach to stomach, and hands on her waist. She could see him relaxing into a calmer frame of mind, easing from his own storm. 

“What did you yell at them?” she grinned, resting her arms loosely around his shoulders. It pleased her when he clasped his hands against her lower back. 

“I’d rip their jaws off if they said anything else to you,” he grumbled, not necessarily proud of his outburst.

Seeing the thrill flash across her face had him licking his lips, dismayed that he couldn’t taste her anymore. But he also wanted to sink into her- to feel her throb around him. He wanted to dig his teeth into her skin and mark her and _keep_ her. 

He breathed deeply, pinching his eyes closed. 

_Stop being a fucking animal._

“I’m sorry,” he got out, his forehead against hers. 

“For what? Nick look at me,” she purred, bringing his face up, but he still had issue keeping eye contact. “What?” 

It was harder to concentrate, to form any words when she was tightening her hold, her palm cupping the back of his neck. 

“I wanna do things to you,” he forced, gladly hiding his face between her neck and shoulder when she placed fluttering kisses on his cheek. Solid hands added point by laying flat against her back, vanquishing any minute amount of space between them. “And it’s hard to control,”

“Is that really anything to apologize over?” Her tone was rough, wanting, as were her hands that slid down either side of his neck and fisted in his shirt. Her low whine brought another growl rumbling up his throat, quaking into her body that gave way under his harsh touch.

“Sorry.” he ground out. 

“Stop being _sorry_ , Nick.” she exhaled with mild irritation, pressing her soft mouth against his. The groan was involuntary, but not holding her head so he could adjust his mouth; so he could part his lips when her hot tongue slid in.

A few steps forward had her against the truck, seizing her gaunt waist as she reached to meet his lips. She could feel his sharp teeth every time his tongue sought hers, and the two would snicker when she’d bump a tusk or he kissed too much of one lip. 

Nick’s actions felt sluggish in comparison to the vigor shooting to every corner of his body. He wanted this to last; to have her pinned between him, her leg hiked up his thigh, her arms around his neck and whispering sweet nothings to him in between soft smooches. Fisting her hair made her whimper, just as he would grouse when she pressed her fingers under the collar of his shirt, goosebumps erupting across his arms.

“I’ve wanted t’do this for awhile,” she whispered, blessing his lips with soft pecks. 

“I know,” 

Her eyes cracked open. “You… what?” 

“I can smell it on you,” he told her, pressing his face against her neck, his fingers pulling her hair aside. “When I saw you on the street,” he breathed against her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut when he kissed there, his other arm securing her against his chest. 

“And when I dropped you off,” he mumbled into her skin. 

“ _Ohh_ ,” she exhaled before his tongue slid in her mouth, her neck craned back in his hold. 

But her hips rolled, her crotch grinding against his. 

“Don’t do that,” he growled, hunched over her, resting his head on her shoulder. Now she laughed, breathlessly, rubbing his back. 

“Let's leave, yeah? My place?” she asked, kissing his cheek. 

He swallowed. 

“Yeah let's go,” he managed, fumbling to take out his keys and open her door with her arms still around him. 

The quick walk around his truck helped take the edge off. 

Cologne and soil. Made sense why the bed of his truck had remnants of dirt and emptied sacks. The cab of the truck was neat, and a metal beaded necklace hung from the rearview mirror, buttons of various metal bands pinned on it.

“Where's your place?” he asked, backing out. 

“25th and National,” 

He looked at her. “By Abrams street?” 

Callie nodded. “Don't like the area?” she asked, fanning her cheeks. 

Nick shrugged. “Got shot at around there.” he said, driving off. 

“My streets quiet, I promise.” 

↠

“Why are you still laughing?” 

He was too, but only because her giggles were contagious. She wiped the tear from the corner of her eye as she slid from her seat, steadying herself against him when a tide of cackles shook her shoulders. 

“I dunno- ‘Chef Matt Damon’ just sounds really funny,” she panted. 

It was one of his poorer attempts at a joke, never expecting her to laugh so much. He grinned as he followed her around the truck, and looked up at the tall apartments. Wide units, stretching out side to side before assigned parking spots, and one main entrance to access them all. Being only about a ten minute drive from her work, the night carried on much like it did near the store. 

Up a flight of stairs, and the last unit on the left. 

“Number 7?” he asked, meeting her eyes after she’d unlocked her screen door. 

“Yep,”

“7’s a lucky number,” he reached to point to it, but it was really so he could step into her space. Tenders kisses upon her mouth, and her small hands grabbing his hips, her eyes fluttering shut. She loved the pressure of his body against hers. So sturdy, and warm.

“That was really lame,” she laughed.

“You still fell for it though,” 

“Think you're getting lucky?” she asked quietly. 

“Do I need it?” he rasped, their breath mingling. The tug on his hips was his answer.

“Are you still gonna,” but she giggled when he mouthed her neck playfully. “Are you still gonna come in?”

He’d be a fucking moron not to, so he nodded against her kiss. More giggling, and he gave the area a once over before following her in.

Clean laundry and something she’d cooked were the first scents to hit him in the small, stuffy apartment. A couch set to his side before a TV and entertainment center, and the little kitchen and table set was on his other. He spotted the hallway that led to her room and probably a bathroom, but he was more enthralled with all the photos lining her walls, stretching across the unit. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, grabbing pieces of clothing over the back of chairs and pushing a pair of running shoes aside, some mail scattered on countertops and jackets that belonged on hangers. When he handed her a shirt that was on the chair beside him, he could smell her on it. 

_I wonder how good her bed smells…_

“Wanna drink?” she asked, having set her bag and keys down. Nick nodded. He liked seeing her in this place. It suited her well, what with the warm light and overall homey feeling to it. 

His feet carried him away to the pictures as she moved around her kitchen. 

This must’ve been her family. A couple of other girls who looked remarkably alike; little kids, older members, but if he moved to the side, he could track her life in order. 

“Is this you?” he asked, pointing to one of a toddler with big cheeks and wild hair, a bright smile on her face. He already knew it was- those two freckles on her chin were her giveaway. 

She handed him a cold beer. “Yeah, when I was 2,” she said, sipping hers. 

“Cutie,” he mumbled, bumping her arm. She hung back, straightening her place up a little more as he wandered, occasionally stopping to stare at a photo. Mostly the ones of her in dressage for dancing competitions or events. How she could make a still photo look so fluid was beyond him. The traditional dresses were breathtaking on her, as was the smile she wore in most of them. 

Birthdays, family photos, even just professionally done portraits she said her parents insisted on having- it was all amazing. 

“ _This_ is you?” he smiled. 

“Ah, yesss. Halloween when I was 15. I was obsessed with The Crow,” All the white face paint and wet hair was definitely a look.

“These are your siblings?” he also asked. 

“Yep. Patricia is the oldest, then Rosie, me and Santiago, and over here,” she pulled him to a larger photo beside her TV. “My nieces and nephews. Tomas is Patricia's, Dyani and Joaquin are Rosie’s, and Diego, Isabella and Francisca are Santi’s,” she finished, smiling proudly. 

“Wow,”

“And the thousands of others are all my family,” she said, waving her hand. 

“There’s so many,”

“Yeah, family reunions are like the gathering of a nation,”

He snorted. “You ever wanna add to it?” he asked, purely curious. 

But her small smile was… held back, a little sad. _Oh no._

_Had he asked too much?_

“Or not?”

“Well yeah, I would like to,” she started, and he followed her to the couch where they sat. She was doing it again; anytime they sat, she’d bounce her leg, as if anxious. 

“But I can’t have kids,” she confessed. That must’ve been something that bridled her heart, judging by the way her voice softened, almost as if she were ashamed. 

“I didn’t mean-” 

“No no, it's fine. I um, I get chronic cysts? My gynecologist has told me I have a better chance of seeing a Unicorn than I do getting pregnant,” Callie mumbled, fiddling with his hand that she pulled into her lap. 

“That’s… kind of a dick way to put it,” he said; she shrugged. 

“Sent a clear message. I'm rockin’ the drunk aunt at parties though that promises to get them their first tattoo,” she smiled. “What about you? You ever wanna have kids?” she asked, rising to turn on a fan that blew a relieving breeze across them. 

“I never really thought of it...” he answered, looking at his beer.

“No?”

Nick shrugged. “Seemed pointless to plan for that kind of thing when no one is around to plan it with,” he said quieter. Callie watched him; the way he kept his eyes trained on anything else but hers, as if revealing any emotions would mean baring more than he wanted. Something someone cruel could use against him. 

“Plus I’m too old now,” he added. 

“Says the one who was boasting about Orcs aging slower,” she tittered, pushing on his arm. 

“Ageless, I said, please don’t confuse the two,” he corrected. 

“You’d be a good dad, I think,” she told him, her hand tracing the top of his head to the back of his neck. He shivered, looking at her. “You have a lot of quality to pass on. Like how you can speak three fucking languages that all happen to be in the top 5 of hardest to learn,” she marveled, making him grin. 

“And you got all this,” she trailed her hands playfully over his face, but he pulled them away, holding them. “All that pretty face to pass on,”

“You calling me pretty all the time is killing my masculinity,”

“What masculinity?” she teased, making an O face. He squeezed above her knee, causing her to kick out. Toned legs landed in his lap, and he held them, looking at her. Her freckled cheeks were flushed, and he was sure he could see sweat shining on her chest. This place was too hot, but so was she, especially for him. 

“Just… just one question,” he started, leaning forward to place his beer down on the coffee table before them.

“Are you always so _mean_?” he asked. 

“I’m not _mean_ , I’m _blunt_ ,” she corrected. 

“Horribly blunt,”

“Sayin’ I’m horrible?”

“Nope,”

“Sounds like it,” She flipped her hair.

“You heard wrong,”

“No, I heard you say I’m mean and horrible. Besides I’m only mean to people I really like,” she explained, bouncing her brows. 

Nick smirked. “You just admitted you’re mean,”

“I said no such thing,”

“And that you really like me,” he battled. The crooked smile she gave him was beautiful, and her hand found his where it had been rubbing her thigh. 

“What?” she laughed after he shook his head a little. 

“Sometimes I can’t believe you like hanging around me,” he told her. 

“Why would you go and say something like that?” she asked, scooting closer.

“Look at you,” he mumbled, but she snorted. 

“Look at _you_ ,” she retorted. “You’ve gotten a lot of shit but you still have a heart of gold, meanwhile people like me with far less trauma have black holes for hearts,”

“Your shit is just as valid as mine,” he told her, but she shrugged. 

“I dealt with mine though. Yours follows you around and is the size of LA” she said. Nick felt his heart flutter. 

“That’s why I can’t believe it sometimes,” he said. Her head cocked. “Cause I don’t even have words for shit I feel everyday but you just get it,” he told her. 

Callie smiled, moving to hold his face. 

“Mi amore.” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him. 

Soft, careful ones, and her hands smoothing across his jaw, her eyes meeting his when she paused to just look at him. Nick exhaled the smallest bit, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth as he shook his head again. 

“Are you disbelieving again?” she whispered. He nodded. 

The absence of her beside him almost made him whine, but she stood in front of him, nudging his knees farther apart with her own. 

She worked the button to her jeans and zipper, and as she pushed them down her thighs, he swallowed. Down her legs, off her feet, leaving her in a tight pair of maroon panties that left little to the imagination. Only a chaste second to study the large tattoo of the bulls skull with a mandala behind it on her thigh before she slid a knee beside his thigh. Her small hands sought his, and he worried they’d shake. 

Placed on her hips, they didn’t have a chance to. 

Callie’s thigh swung over his, and he found himself pulling her tight onto his lap, her arms sliding around his neck. She was barely any weight, but just enough pressure to study his girth. 

“Do you know the first thing I thought when I saw you?” she asked suddenly, and he shook his head, refocusing on her face. 

“I asked myself how the hell I’d ever get you to notice me,” 

That had to be a lie. No way she could think he wouldn’t have noticed her. 

“You’re fucking crazy.” he said. 

“Yeah, I really like you too.” was all she said before kissing him, moaning softly. Nick could never get enough of the way her mouth felt against his. So soft, inviting, her lips never losing their fullness even when he smothered her. He found that when he pulled away to hold her face so he could take in her mien, she’d complain, fighting past his hands. The more he did it, the more impatient she became, hissing his name.

“Keep your hands here,” she demanded, putting them back on her hips.

She moved his head to the side with hers, and her hot mouth found his jaw, tracing open mouthed kisses across his skin, blunt teeth scraping along his neck. He’d never felt such a sensation on his skin when she licked and sucked at his pulse.

“Callie-” he groaned, his palms sliding up her back. 

“No,” she stopped, moving them down again. His heavy eyes opened. “Keep ‘em here,” she breathed, her breath caressing his face.

Nick whined loudly when she circled her hips; his hands finally stayed. Thick fingers dug into the silky skin of her hips, and he looked down, marveling, watching her barely clothed pussy grind against the raging hard-on straining under his shorts. 

It’d be so easy; to pop his pants open, and move her underwear aside. To push in her, and listen to her cry out.. 

Pressing his face against her neck didn’t help any, nor did holding her ass, or eventually running his palms up the length of her back so he could feel her hot skin. The muscles along her spine were taut, as were the ones that defined her shoulder blades the higher he wandered.

_Taste her_ , his mind ordered the more he breathed her in. 

He pulled her hair aside, and sucked on her slender neck, his sharp teeth making her sigh. Sweet somehow, and salty from sweat. He sucked until she whimpered, and looked up so she’d kiss him. 

Her arms unwound, but her tongue softly licking his lips kept him suspended as she slipped one elbow out at a time from the straps of her camisole. He was rougher than he intended when he helped pull it down her breasts. His palms brushing her nipples made her bow into his touch before he finished kissing down her chest.

Soft exhales he could hear from behind her smile filled his ears as he worshipped her. “You’re fucking perfect,” he slurred against her skin, nipping her peaks between his sharp teeth, kneading with large hands, gently biting the side of her boob where it was softest. All the while, she squirmed in his hold, her arousal soaking through her panties the more he touched.

He could smell how wet she was- how badly she wanted this. 

Callie’s arms moved between their bodies, and she smiled when his mouth detached from her, his eyes dilated. Eyes followed her hands that plucked at his waist band, the back of her nails sliding against his skin. His stomach tightened, his dick twitching.

She opened the top button of his shorts, and his pelvis rose in response.

“What’re you doin’?” he groaned, massaging her sides. He gazed up at her, sweating, borderline delirious the longer he inhaled her.

“Lookin’ for trouble,” she purred, sucking his tongue into her mouth. 

Loud knocks on her door filled the quiet apartment. 

Both froze.

“Callie!” came a voice, accompanied by more knocks. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Callie hissed, out of his lap and arms, struggling to pull her shirt up and reaching for her jeans. 

“Who is it?” he asked standing, grunting when his dick pressed straight out. 

“It’s fucking Rosie,” she ground out. Nick adjusted himself as she buttoned her jeans and threw her hair off her shoulders angrily. Pounding at her door startled him that time, and he felt nervousness churn his stomach as she stomped across her living room.

“Can you be any fucking louder?” she hissed after opening the door, moving so another woman who could almost be Callie’s double walked in, a backpack over her shoulder and holding various other items. 

“I’m sorry, I'm so tired and I don't wanna drive across town-” but the woman's raspy voice halted when she spotted Nick standing beside her couch. Callie joined her, mouthing an apology to him. 

“Well this explains who’s parked in your spot,” she grinned, winking at Nick. 

“Uh,” Nick started. 

“Shut up. Nick this is my sister Rosie Rosie this is Nick,” Callie rushed. 

Rosie extended her hand. Firm handshake. 

“Good t’meet you,” Rosie smiled, her striking eyes brighter than Callie’s. 

“You too,” Nick replied. 

“Didn’t mean to interrupt you two,” she simpered in a hushed tone. 

“We weren't doing anything,” Callie mumbled. Nick cocked a brow at her, and she shrugged in return. 

“Oh yeah? You give yourself that hickey then?” Rosie asked. Callie elbowed her. 

“‘Scuse me, I’ll make myself busy so you two can carry on.” Rosie smiled, sticking her tongue out at Callie as she walked towards the bedroom.

Nick stepped towards her as she was pulling her hands down her face. 

“My sister,” she sighed. He nodded. 

“Seems… nice,” he tried, and she scoffed. 

They looked at one another.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Nick shook his head, moving hair off her shoulder. 

“I should get going,” he said, unwillingly. Now Callie nodded. 

“See you soon?” 

He hummed his approval against her mouth when he kissed her, holding her smaller face. _Ugh_ , he better leave before he gets going again, regardless of who else was there. But her kisses were so fucking addicting. 

“I’ll take the couch if you two want the bed,” Rosie called out. Callie spun to glare. 

“I’ll call you,” he said before kissing her cheek. “Nice to meet you.” He waved, and Rosie in return, leaning against the frame of the hallway as she tied her thick curls up. 

Callie waited until Nick was gone before leaning against her front door, glaring coldly at her sister. Rosie only smiled, motioning towards the entrance. 

“It's the muscles, in’t it?” she asked. 

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Callie snapped, walking towards her room.

“Wanna know what else I’ve heard about Orcs?”

“SHUT UP, ROSIE,” 

“Were you ever gonna tell me you were seeing a _cop_?”

Callie halted, turning back to face Rosie with narrowed eyes. “You know him, don’t you?”

“Oh please, I see him on calls all the time,” Rosie expressed, still leaning against the opening of the hall. 

Callie stood in the doorway to her bedroom, crossing her arms. Her lips pursed. “So you two’ve met before?”

“Did it look like he knew me?”

Callie shook her head, the corner of her mouth pulled in. Rosie studied her sister, more so the disheveled state of her hair and lowered fly of her jeans. 

“Like him?” she questioned. Callie suppressed a wider smile, but nodded. 

“What’s he like at work?”

Rosie blew air from her puffed cheeks. “Quiet. I wouldn’t say a pushover, but definitely not outspoken.”

“Yeah that sounds about right.” Callie paused to adjust the twisted strap on her shoulder. “He’s so sweet. Funny- good kisser,” she mumbled, biting her thumb nail. 

“You’re drooling a little.” Rosie rasped. 

“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN CASE anyone is wondering, i listened to Redbone by Childish Gambino on repeat writing this chapter. that song is fucking heavenly   
> thanks for the comments and kudos thus far! shit's gonna start heating up noooooooooow ;D


	4. Munguz

The call on the radio had said disturbance, but upon arriving to the house in the Orc predominant neighborhood, there was clearly more to it. The male Orc who was yelling in the front lawn of the small house was disheveled, as was the female who sat huddled on her porch with a child. Nick smelled the blood before he spotted the wound on her face. Disturbance ricocheted into domestic. 

“EMT?” Nick asked, and Ward nodded as he walked to the woman crying on the steps. 

“Sir? Sir I need you to calm down so we can talk about this-” Nick tried, but the Orcs rage turned on him as he swung for the Officer. 

“Thiuk hauk noavhaumn avo do wiavh lat, munguz!” he shouted at him. Coated with sweat and heaving, this dude was in a blinding rage.

_Great- gonna be one of those mornings._

“You need to stop yelling-” but he swung again, bellowing as he charged Nick. 

Nick’s leaner frame made it easier to dodge slower charges from Orcs who always bragged about their size, but it was irritating. Orcs were known for their tempers, and this guy was a prime example. 

“Do iav again.” Nick taunted, annoyance prickling his control.

It was easy enough for him to grab his arm and twist, pushing the Orcs chest to the ground and a knee between his shoulder blades. He hollered and fought, almost pushing Nick off if Ward hadn’t stepped in. Even the two of them had difficulty holding him down, and the woman only screamed, begging to get off and leave him alone with the child wailing in her arms. 

More policemen arrived along with paramedics, and Ward with another officer walked the spitting, yelling Orc to a squad car. He snarled loudly at Nick who bared his teeth in return.

“Ignore him, Jakoby,” Ward called. 

“Just cause you’re blooded don’t mean shit, lat fuckaumn avraiavor! Go kurrauz avo your humanuk!” he roared at Nick. 

He stood behind, watching as they shoved him into a backseat, slamming the door shut. He also caught the snide remarks some of the other officers were mumbling, both in relation to Nick and the cuffed Orc. Silently, he walked back across the lawn. There was no use trying to talk to the woman; she probably hated him all the same. 

“Nick, translate.” Ward called to him. He kept his back against the door as opposed to facing the still raging man behind the barred window, listening to him shout insults at anyone and everyone. Same shit, different day. 

↠

“He’s not answering anything,” Nick told him, far more interested in trying to smudge away a few droplets of blood on the thigh of his uniform. 

Ten minutes of trying to speak over the detainee proved useless.

The emblem on his shirt said enough. Blooded to Belyye Volki- a clan most Orcs didn’t recognize for their affiliation with the Altimira, but ruthless nonetheless as they carved their way through LA after they’d bled straight from Russia. He knew Nick was Fogteeth, so there was no chance in hell getting him to calm down. 

“Tell his stupid ass his rights then. What’re you doing smacking a lady around like that?” Ward shouted, hitting the door panel. The Orc only chuffed loudly at him, baring his long tusks. Nick rolled his eyes. 

“Show off,” Nick grumbled, pushing off the car.

“Hey Daryl,” The gravely call of a woman's voice came, and both the Officers looked over their shoulders. Nick sidestepped. 

“What’s good, Dixon? Where you been?” Ward asked, turning to walk backwards beside Nick.

“Vacation, baby. Week wasn’t long enough,” Rosie smiled. 

“You still with your husband?” he called after her. 

“You still with your wife?” she called back, sticking her tongue out. Daryl chuckled, bumping into Nick as he backed up, his eyes lingering longer than normal. That was the first time in the entirety being his partner that he’d seen such a display, for someone who wasn’t Sherri, no less. 

“Hey, Nick,” she winked at him, her fire-like eyes a bit intimidating. 

“How’re you doing, Rosie?” he asked. She shrugged. 

“Can’t complain.” she said before making her way to the woman on the steps.

“You two know each other?” Ward asked under his breath, the two walking back to the cruiser. 

“ _You_ two know each other?” Nick retorted, his golden eyes wide. 

“Asked you first,” 

Nick scoffed. “Remember I told you about Callie’s sister? When I was at her place?” Nick asked. Ward looked at him, then at Rosie. 

“No shit?” Ward grinned. Nick nodded. 

“Cal told me she was a paramedic but I didn’t put the two together,” he explained. “You friends?” 

“She’s the woman I should’a married,” Daryl said. Nick looked at him in puzzlement. “It’s a joke, Jakoby,” he sighed, grabbing his clipboard from their cruiser and starting on paperwork. “We bump into each other a lot on calls,” he told him. 

“More than a lot, it seems,” Nick remarked. Rosie had the little one perched in his mother's lap, clapping with him as another EMT tended to the womans face. 

“Why aren’t you talking to the Orc?” a fellow Officer demanded, glaring hatefully at Nick. 

“He _wouldn’t_ talk,” Nick countered, unbothered. 

“Then do your job and get on-”

“The fuck you think this is?” Ward stopped, grabbing the officers attention with the clipboard. The man puffed out his chest, but Nick could do it better. 

This rookie hadn’t even been in the force as long as Nick, and for some reason, had gotten it into his head that he held seniority over him. More annoying than anything, but Nick was already feeling sour. He wanted to play who had the bigger balls? Nick was game. 

His rookie year was almost up, and he hoped this harassment would end. What good did it do for these humans to always try and crush him under their feet? Was it a kink of theirs or something? He’d probably never know, but that was one thought he actively blocked. That kind of unanswered question would only fuel a rage he’d learned to settle and keep hidden. 

By the time they’d finished collecting statements and finally getting the woman to talk, it was nearly lunch. Rosie finished with the two, and once her fire eyes had spotted him waiting by his cruiser, she bee-lined for him. It sent a chill down his spine- she was kinda… aggressive, and his comfort lessened the closer she came. 

“What’s good, Jakoby?” she asked, like they’d known one another a while. 

“Waiting,” he could only think. He didn't want to stumble over his words. 

She stood beside him in the shade of the car, looking at the scene start to close. 

“I knew who you were before she introduced us,” she said. His attention shifted to her. “The clipped tusks give you away, dude. We’ve been on calls together before,” she told him. He tried to say something in his defense, but there wasn't anything he could say. 

“I’m sorry,” he exhaled. She shrugged. 

“Didn't have any reason to really notice one another before. You gotta at least say hi now that you're hanging around my little sister, though,” she explained. 

Nick's ears twitched. 

“So I know typically this is the part where I tell you I’ll murder you if you hurt her, yada yada, but… tread cautiously,” She paused when he eyed her with furrowed brows. “If you’re just dipping your toes in, ease back cause she already really likes you, and Callie can be a mess,” 

“A _mess_?” he repeated, the disfavor slipping off his tongue. Rosie only waved her hand. 

“Just- I’m sure you have enough common sense to know the longer you date, the farther she’ll fall head over heels for you. So keep your priorities in the open, tu lo tienes?” 

How was he supposed to respond to that? _‘Yes ma’am?’_ A terse nod would do. 

“She say we’re dating?” he asked. Rosie’s smile was that of a predator compared to Callie’s dazzle.

“Well, good talk. See you around, munguz,” she whispered, pushing off the car. 

Bewilderment rushed him. “How’d’you know that name?” 

“Been to a lot of Fogteeth brawls.” she winked, meeting up with her partner at their rig. 

Nick was stumped. Could that be considered a decent interaction? Conversation? Was that even a conversation? It left him pondering what kind of ‘mess’ his girl could be, if even. 

“I’ll ride back with Ortiz- you good?” Ward asked. Nick nodded, thankful he didn’t have to take anymore of an earful from the rival gang member. A weird way to think about it, but he figured he’d better start considering this all important aspect when dealing with Orcs. Nick was Fogteeth, whether he said it aloud or not. 

The officers left, the neighborhood settled, and Nick sat in the cruiser, cranking the AC. 

He’d die from heatstroke before he was shot on the job. 

The chatter on is radio was mild, so there was nowhere he needed to be. At that, he pulled his phone out, always grinning at his lockscreen. 

Snapchat had been a pain in the ass to figure out, but having an impressive collection of his girl to look at since his schedule had picked up for the week was a blessing. It also enabled him to pick his favorite from the lot; the one of her fresh out of the shower with her wet hair fanned around her face, a dopey smile curling her mouth.

Nick pouted. 

This week had felt like a month.

So when he inevitably messaged Callie that he was on break, and she invited him over for lunch, it honestly shocked him that he was finally finding the time to see her again after fighting a grueling summer schedule and too many failed attempts to meet up while she worked. 

He drove away before anyone could stop him, but he tensed every time his radio flashed, fearing he’d be called away. 

Passing Abrams street still made him uneasy. Sometimes he wondered where Tikka was, wandering around somewhere. When Ward had told him he spotted her amongst the crowd at their ceremony, he scoped the area once cleared, desperate to pick up her scent. It was like she had been a tactile hallucination, and now that his brain was unscrambled, there was nothing left to prove she ever existed.

It took some inner debating to decide if he should’ve parked the cruiser down the street… but what if a call came in and he had to leave in a hurry? Lame excuse just to prove his presence, in a human barrio, where no Orcs lived. 

Why the fuck was he so nervous again? 

_She’s been sending you partial nudes all week- pull your head out of your ass._ Even if he was at home, if her barely clothed form lit up his screen, first instinct was to hide his phone, and admire cautiously. 

Up the stairs, down to number 7. Something divine carried out the small window of her kitchen and swarmed him; this girl could cook like a God. 

His knuckles rapped against her screen door. 

“It’s open!” 

Nowhere to be seen, and there was little light coming in from behind her dark curtains. He’d adopted calling her a little bat sometimes, what with the way she liked the dark and- that he had just recently learned- would sometimes bump into stuff if she didn’t wear her glasses. Being far-sighted shouldn't be so hazardous, even if it was only a minor affliction.

“How’d you know it was me?” he said aloud, and she emerged from her room. 

“Cause Thursdays aren’t the usual day for my other lovers,” she grinned. 

Nick stalled, glowering. “Ha ha,” 

Callie walked right into his arms, a full kiss meeting him when she pulled him down. He could kick himself in the head for almost forgetting how she smelled. Her scent on his shirt from the week prior had faded quickly, but pressing his face into it a few times a day would do that. 

“Mm, I missed you,” she hummed against his mouth, her thumbs tracing his high cheekbones. 

“Tell me about it,” 

“Make yourself comfy,” another peck. “Lunch is almost done.” She gave him a couple sturdy pats on his chest before sauntering away, snickering when he pinched her hip playfully. 

He went about taking off his belt and vest, watching her meanwhile. She moved about, back and forth between counter and oven, checking and stirring, twisting her hair around her finger to cascade over one shoulder. 

The loose top hid little when her arms raised like that, exposing the soft side of her breast. 

Nick swallowed the whimper that clawed up his throat. 

↠

“ _Calmase_ ,”

“Call-ma _say_ ,”

“No- _calmase_ ,” Callie corrected, grinning at how intensely he stared at her mouth, trying to mimic her.

“Ahh I can’t do it,” He stuffed another bite into his mouth. “Spanish is like…” he waved his hand. 

“People might be more inclined to listen if you got on their level,”

He cocked a brow. “Maybe,” he admitted, never having thought of it in that sense.

“We’ll start with one word a day,” 

Nick nodded, but was lost in his nearly emptied plate. “Thississogoo,” he slurred. 

“Wanna take some home with you?” she asked as she rose, gathering her plate and cup. He could only nod, sopping up the juices onto the rolled tortilla like she’d shown him, savoring his last bites before picking up his plate. 

“Thank you,” he kissed against her hair when she took his plate to rinse. “I finally saw Rosie today,” he added, leaned against the counter beside her and chewing the last of his tortilla. 

“She harass you?” 

_Callie can be a mess_.

“Nah, but I'm almost positive Ward has a thing for her,” he opted to tell her instead. 

“ _Mmm_ , she’s married,” 

“So is he,” 

Callie chuckled. Wet hands moved her hair away from her neck and twirled it over her shoulder again, revealing the hickey Nick thought would’ve faded by now. 

“I do that?” he teased, and she eyed him. 

“Who else?” 

“One of your other lovers apparently,” he mumbled, a little grudgingly. 

“Got an earful of it from Ashely,” she started, turning the faucet off and shaking her dripping hands. “Always asking when you're gonna come in so she can meet you properly,” 

“Oh yeah?” 

She nodded, stepping closer. He gave in to temptation calling to taste her sweet lips, then her bare shoulder when she held loosely around his waist. Smoothing his hands across her back took him to the night she was in his lap, grinding against him. If Rosie hadn’t interrupted, he would’ve had her writhing beneath him. 

“Hey,” He pulled from her skin to meet her lazy eyes after she turned her face up. _Ah, she’s so cute_. “Why’d you get sent home that day?” he inquired. When she sighed and moved from him, he grew suspicious. 

“What?” he drawled out, leaning over to catch her line of sight. Another pause. 

“I… got in an altercation with some old _hag_ ,” she said lowly. 

“What happened?” 

Callie looked everywhere but his eyes, chewing the inside of her lip. “Me and Ashely were talking and this lady decided to butt in but when I said said something back, I got sent home,” she said in one breath. 

His ears twitched. “What were you talking about?” he asked, but she could hear the unease in his voice. Still, she couldn't keep eye contact, for they were jumping around everywhere else behind him. 

“You,” 

Nick nodded, and moved a lock of hair from her face. 

“Don’t bother next time,” he told her. 

“Why?” she asked, perplexed. 

“Cause you shouldn’t be getting yourself sent home over me,” 

“I can’t help what happens when I stick up for people I care about, but I’m gonna keep doin’ it,” She spoke proudly, her chin lifted. 

“That a fact?”

“That’s a fact,” 

His tightened face relaxed some. “Troublemaker,” 

That ecstatic smile was otherworldly. 

“Just promise me you won’t throw any fists at anyone who’s taller than you?” he pleaded, his impressive hands holding her face. 

“Everyone already is so no use saying I won’t,” He snorted softly, but his eyes portrayed the thoughts weighing heavy in his mind.

“C’mon, big guy,” she cooed, wiggling his hips some. “I told you I was your backup.” 

His heart felt a little heavy; he didn't want her getting herself into any more trouble over him no matter how much he appreciated it. 

When she lifted her chin higher and her eyes darted to his mouth, he knew she wanted a kiss. 

And he gave her another, and she stood taller for one. And so quickly, she was clinging to him, whimpering when he crushed her against his broad chest. Callie bent under his iron hold, and tugged his undershirt upwards. The heat was thick all around them, as was this rush of raw energy in his body that could challenge the power of the sun. 

“You lookin’ for trouble again?” he breathed against her open lips. “Si no vas a ir a buscar.” she purred, kissing his chin. 

“Huh?” 

Callie chuckled.

Cold digits slid up his sides, across his back, a heated groan rumbling under her touch. He detached to trace his teeth across her jaw, short breaths heaving his chest when her hands slid up his tight stomach, her fingertips tracing the defined muscle. 

He squeezed her ass when she dragged her nails up his back, a leg hiking up his thigh. 

“Take ‘em off,” she breathed. He looked at her lustful eyes; her flushed cheeks and wet lips. 

His hands fisted the jeans at her hips.

“Take them off and touch me,” she said again, her open mouth brushing his. He did so obediently, sliding his hands flat into her jeans, using his wrists to push them down over her round ass. Even as he reached to shove them down her thighs, he could shower her with kisses, helping her step out of them. 

He gripped her naked hips, the loose shirt barely covering below her belly. 

“You're not wearing underwear,” he groaned. She smiled against his cheek. 

“Touch me, Nick.” She begged in his ear.

Her arousal invading his scenses was already stifling any coherent thought process, so this might kill him. But with a steady hand, he followed the soft curve of her lower stomach, pressing into her soft, shaven lips. 

Callie’s mouth fell open in the wake of a hard exhale and smile, her eyes slamming shut. 

He hid his bared teeth in her hair as he pebbled her soaked clit. His fingers traced the length of her cunt as she rocked, her hips dipping when she felt his fingertips prod her entrance.

“Callie-” he tried saying, but instead cursed when she cupped him over his pants. 

“Put it in me,” she trembled, but her voice was certain, heady.

Her body fell limp in his hold when a single digit slipped into her; she was so ready. 

He hoisted her up against his hips and placed her on the counter. She worked his belt and pants quickly while he yanked off his own shirt, his fingers still slick. 

Finally she could get an eyeful of the clenched, defined muscles of his abdomen, and the patterning of his skin that followed the chiseled V of his lower abdomen. She’d ask later about the scar at the center of his chest, because right now, all she wanted was the thick shaft she had in her hands after pushing his pants and briefs down his narrow hips.

Callie watched with rapt attention as she pumped him with both hands. Wide length and blunt head, a distended vein twisting up the rigid member she couldn’t close her fists around. He slumped over her, pulsating in her grasp when her thumb stroked over his lubricated tip. 

After so many times he could only hide his face and whimper, his hips jerking into her touch.

He lifted his head when she wiggled closer to the edge of the counter. A low moan rumbled in his chest when the head parted her swollen lips.

“It might hurt,” he ground out, fighting not to plunge in. 

“Think I can’t handle it?” she whispered, her fingers splayed over his lower abdomen before sliding up to his sides. He cocked a brow; he could feel her shaking under his hands, but there was challenge firing in her eyes. 

She gasped his name when he started to push in. She was so tight- it had him questioning if he could fit. Her nails digging into this skin stung like a bitch, but God, her sex felt so fucking good he almost couldn't comprehend it. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “Lat feel uko fuckaumn _mir_ ,”

“Shut up and keep going,” she winced, her feet pulling the back of his thighs. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes keep going!”

“I don't wanna make you-”

“I’m okay just keep going till-” She cried out when he shoved into her entirely. Her whole body stiffened, eyes pinching shut, nails drawing blood on his arms. Callie clung to him, whimpering, stretching. Wide hands rubbed her back, holding her. He dared not speak; his voice would surely shake, for he was shoved so deep in her pussy he could sob.

Tears pricked her eyes when he asked if she was okay, but she kissed his worry away, his face held in her hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he whined against her mouth. 

“I’m fine, you're just big,” she sighed, carefully, slowly, moving closer. Her feet planted against the cabinets beneath when he leaned into her after she slid around his cock. Just looking at where he was hidden in her- 

_Calm the fuck down_.

She was the one to push back against his stomach until he protested at his tip, and eagerly squeezed in again.

The burning eased with every thrust into her. He filled her, leaving no place untouched, even at her core. Slowly, he fucked this perfect human being. He would not rush this meeting of flesh. Nick would savor every mewl and soft scraping of her blunt teeth against his neck and shoulder; every clench of her sex around his cock.

“ _Fuck fuck fuck_ ,” she cried, kissing him sloppily. His thoughts were muddled, his actions unprecise. 

She kept his body close, clinging to what she could while her thighs spread, her knees sometimes pulling up if it meant he could go any deeper as his tempo increased.

Nick thought she sounded so beautiful- the way she sighed his name and moaned against his skin; her smothered cries having him seek her mouth so he could catch them. Those big, dreamy eyes glossy and heavy, her bruised lips wet from his tongue-

“Jakoby,” 

Both of their heads spun, seeking the source of the call. 

“Jakoby, come back,” 

It was Ward over Nick’s walkie. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Nick said between his teeth. Callie looked at him. 

“Heig is gonna have your ass if you don't get that cruiser back here ASAP.” Ward hissed. 

Nick looked at her, both of them flushed. She held his shoulders when he dropped his head, silently apologizing. They gasped when he slid from her. Picking up disorganized clothing was awkward; they bumped into one another and laughed nervously, and she caught his grunts when he zipped his pants over his slowly shrinking penis. 

“Coming back, over.” he said into the walkie.

He tried not to grunt angrily while attempting to button his uniform, but his hands shook something awful. Callie stepped in to help when he grumbled, her small fingers flying through the buttons. Would an apology even help right now? With all that disappointment in her eyes? 

“Whoever the fuck Heig is, he’s on my shit list,” she said assuredly. He grinned, relieved.

The vest and belt were slipped back on, and she handed him his keys and phone. 

“Call when you can?” she asked as she walked him to the door, the top button of her jeans undone and her hair tousled. 

_This is fucking torture- this isn’t **fair**._

“I will,” he replied, but stopped. He couldn’t leave without kissing her. No tongue or fervent hands, just a drawn, loving kiss that made her eyes heavy.

“I’m sorry.” he kissed against her forehead. 

“Get goin’.” she told him, locking the door after he left. 

A hand against the door steadied her where the other cupped her sex, the dull throb settling. He was bigger than anything she’d ever managed, and despite already craving to shove it in her again, this would take some adjusting. But to feel a body against hers, so warm and solid after a lonely stint of celibacy... Between her ribs, her heart thundered, the smile on her face just as powerful. 

 

Nick couldn’t seem to steady his stumbling hands. Driving usually helped when his nerves got the better of him, but even that was hard. He kept hearing her whine in his ear, and repeatedly licked his bottom lip where her teeth would knead. His eyes moved quicker, his mouth watering when he could smell her juices on his hands.

He took the lashing from his captain. His allocated time for lunch hadn't even exceeded, nor was taking the cruiser worth any kind of repercussion; Nick knew it was just the animosity, nothing more, and there was no arguing his point because there was no way he’d actually tell him where he was. 

So he stood with vacant eyes, nodding regularly, his mind miles away, still in that stuffy kitchen with Callie’s legs wrapped around him. 

The scratches on his arms and shoulders still stung. A remnant of her skin was still on his clothes. 

He kept nodding, apologizing, anything to get this over with. 

Ward was present, but he said nothing. After he’d finally been excused, he still didn't say anything. Nick knew he didn't snitch- it was a matter of just answering to their captain. But Nick was stuck at the prescient the remainder of the day. A mountain of paperwork was his punishment, and his own thoughts driving him up the wall. 

The day closed with other officers snickering behind his back, but this was one of the times he could care less. They didn’t know just where he'd spent his time, but he liked keeping that to himself. 

Ambling into the locker room, he was met by more sneers. He rolled his eyes. They acted like teenagers. 

“Finally finish?” Ward asked as he passed, starting to pull his uniform down his arms. 

Nick acknowledged him, unlocking his locker. He straightened the photobooth strip. 

“You run off somewhere with lil mama?” Daryl asked. That caught the attention of some of the other men changing. That shifted their mockery, but not in any sense better. _Any louder, Ward?_

Nick shrugged, pulling his undershirt off. 

“Shit son- she carved into you!” Daryl exclaimed. 

Nick looked over his shoulder in his mirror. Thick welts had started to scab in long streaks running the length of his back and sides, some on his arms and shoulders. His undershirt was peppered with small spots of blood. It was difficult to bite down the smirk; that made him a little proud. 

“That’s where you disappeared to, huh?” Ward pushed. 

“Who would fuck an Orc?” Gerrald, the same younger officer from the call that morning asked as he walked by. Nick went about his business.

“Dude shut up,” Ward snapped, returning to his locker. 

“Some big broad with a monster kink or something?” he continued, earning sneers and snickering from others. 

That was the nail in the coffin. Nick leaned over, observing his bare back.

“I don't see any scratches on you and you're married,” Nick replied coolly. 

Ward erupted with laughter and even some of the others joined, leaving the young man sucking his teeth angrily and trying to silence the commotion. 

“Fuck you, Jakoby,” He spat. 

_Fuck who ever doesn’t like you_.

Maybe it was the rabid appetite in his body that was still unhinged, or the need to prove himself even more now that it was known he had a woman, whatever it may be, something compelled him to turn and say, “No thanks, I already got some,” 

His tone had been low, menacing, _final_. But this skinny prick still scoffed, trying to keep his stance tall even though there was howling and jeering in the locker room; for once they were taking aim at someone else. 

“Only whores fuck Orcs,”

Ward stopped Nick when two wide steps brought him closer to Gerrald. Nick had always been one to let shit roll off his back, but Daryl had bared witness to his brute strength. He could throw men ten feet effortlessly, so he knew to stop a major incident before it even began, especially with Nick’s girl at mention. 

“Say she’s a whore again and I’ll rip your spine out,” Nick snarled, letting Daryl push him back. 

“Stand down, Nick,” Ward ordered. Nick chuffed, glared, a challenge rising in his blood. Anyone who dared even whisper anything belittling Callie was a threat- someone that needed to be kept away. He’d give no one the chance to speak ill of her. 

The vibrance of the locker room had hushed to mumbles, a few chuckles here and there.

“Damn Jakoby- where this side been?” he heard someone ask, but it went ignored. 

Daryl managed to keep Nick at bay, but the Orc was still fuming, ready to throw down. 

“Keep your dog on a shorter leash.”

“You mean like your wife do? That why you can’t even buy lunch without calling her?” Ward taunted. That rekindled some of the amusement, and anything left he had to say was waved off. He could deal with proving his wife didn’t have him by the balls to everyone else. 

“Keep your head on, dude. Don’t make me call Callie and tell her your ass be brawling cause you gotta prove something Orkish.” Ward said below his breath. Nick chuckled inwardly when he left, sending a passing glare back at his aggressor. His low growl wouldn’t be heard over the banter of the other men around them, but he figured his bad eye said enough.

Changed, shotgun turned in, his goodbye to Daryl and then to his truck where he could sit in silence. 

 

She slowed to a walk when the phone vibrated against her thigh. His name on the screen brought a smile to her lips, and she clicked the button to her earbuds.

“Hey big guy,” she panted, speaking softly. 

Nick’s smile was ear to ear. “Hey troublemaker,” he replied. 

“What’re you doing?” she asked, wandering in a circle as her body cooled down. 

“Just got off, calling to see what you're up to,” 

“Finishing up a run actually,” Callie told him, the sweat coming off her in sheets. There was a beat of silence, and with her hand on her hip, cautiously she asked, “Did I get you in trouble today?”

“Not _you_ , but yeah,” he grumbled. She held her forehead. 

“Fuck I’m sorry,” she groaned. 

Nick smirked. “I’m not,” 

She smiled, her head tilted back. The run was supposed to help dull the yearn that only grew the more she thought of him the rest of that day, but there he was getting a rise out of her all over again. 

“No, huh?” she chuckled. 

“M-mm,” 

She stuffed the phone back in the pocket of her tights, walking now. 

“It was uh… long awaited,” she smiled. 

“It was. You’ve been in my mind all day- more so than usual,” he confessed. Nervously he fiddled with his keys. 

“Pervert,” she joked. 

“I am,” he whined, hiding his face. 

“It’s okay- I'm counting down the seconds ‘till you slip in for another visit,” she tried to say as sexily as she could. Instead she bit her knuckle, trying not to giggle. 

He frowned down at the immediate reaction in his pants, the heel of his palm pushing against it. 

“Okay well I’m gonna go home and take a cold shower but I’ll text you, yeah?” he said, and that she laughed at. 

“Good luck with that, Officer,” she cooed. 

Nick shook his head. “Bye, baby.” 

She held her cheek. “Bye, amore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert suspenseful sexy music here*
> 
> Translations!:  
> -Thiuk hauk noavhaumn avo do wiavh lat, munguz: "This has nothing to do with you, roundtooth!"  
> -Do iav again: "Do it again."  
> -lat fuckaumn avraiavor! Go kurrauz avo your humanuk: "-you fucking traitor! Go back to your humans!"  
> -tu lo tienes?: "You got it?"  
> -Si no vas a ir a buscar: "Yeah if you're not gonna go looking."  
> -Lat feel uko fuckaumn mir: "You feel so fucking good."


	5. Dreamy

“ _Again?_ ” Callie whined. 

“Again,” Nick grumbled. 

Both had their phones pinned between ear and shoulder, going about their own days, but this was the second double shift Nick was working, halting their plans. 

“It’s your fucking captain, isn’t it?” she snapped, shelving items angrily. 

“Probably,” Nick grunted, standing from his bed to pull his pants on and tuck his undershirt. He’d only been home about an hour before being summoned back to the precinct to cover someone's shift. He wasn’t even on call, but piss off the captain, might as well sign away your social life. 

“Fucking asshole,” she cursed. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. Callie exhaled. 

“Sorry- I’m not mad at you, I’ll stop. Have a better day at least, yeah?” she told him. 

“Yeah, I’ll pay you back for the tickets,” he said, grabbing his keys. 

“Shut up. Talk to you soon.” 

“Bye baby.”

She stuffed her phone away, idling back to the front of the store, the distaste evident on her face. 

“Canceled again?” Ashely asked, skimming a magazine behind the counter. 

“I’m gonna put a hit out on his captain. Racist pig,” Callie mumbled. 

Ashely tittered. “Desperate to get at him again, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Callie groaned as she ran her hands down her face. “I just miss him! We went from talking all the time to barely getting in a conversation a day,”

“Sure he’s not just avoiding you?” Ashely asked. Callie’s eyes narrowed. 

“Thanks for the encouragement,”

“I’m here to be honest, not kiss your ass,” the blonde cooed, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“He’s not like that,” Callie started, picking at the old advertisement stickers on the counter. “He texts me until I’m home even if he’s working,” 

“Good cover,”

“Seriously?”

“I’m gifting you with blunt possibilities, you should be thanking me.” Ashely grinned. Callie scoffed. 

“Puta.” she said before walking away. 

What was once an evening she had gone out of her way to buy skimpy underwear for was another night she would spend alone, just like the two times prior he’d asked her to dinner. She kicked the empty boxes before flattening them, tearing at the cardboard viciously.

↠

“Hold on I’m sending it,” Nick mumbled, waiting for the photo to attach. “Sent,”

Callie waited, staring at her screen. Downloading, downloading… she gasped. 

“Are those the bell peppers?” she beamed. 

“Mhm,”

“When did you find the time?” she asked, zooming in on the small greens blooming from the soil. They looked meager in comparison to the other heads of lush green choosings from his personal garden.

“Sometime between 2 and 4 am?” he chuckled. 

“You didn’t have t’do that,” she said softly, placing the phone on her chest and laying back on her bed. 

“I promised them weeks ago,”

“And today is your first normal night in a week so you have an excuse to do nothing,”

“Ehh,” he only sounded, stretching like a starfish across his matress. Back to back shifts left him deflated and on the verge of sleeping for a full day and night, but he had to at least get some phone time in with her. 

“Well thank you, I can’t wait to eat them,” 

He only hummed, floating, enjoying listening to her talk. Her soft sigh over the phone caused the flick of his ears, and he repositioned the phone on his bare chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“I miss you. I wish you were beside me doin’ nothing,” she said. His heart clenched a little. 

“Ditto, baby,”

She snorted loudly, and he could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “I told you to stop saying that,”

“If I could scrape myself off the bed I’d go over,” he said. 

“I know, it’s okay,” 

He had the faintest of grins when he said, “I miss your butt,”

“I miss your face,” she replied.

“I miss your ears,”

“I miss what’s in your pants,”

His eyes cracked open. “I miss what's in _your_ pants,” he replied, quieter. 

Nick had managed to keep hold on his urges. The ones that inevitably raged in him when he would recall what his hands could still feel, and what his tongue could still taste. It happened countless times during his days, but unlike now, it wasn’t as needful to suppress in the privacy of his own home.

“Has it been a week again already?” she asked softly. 

“Longest week,”

Her fingers tapped against her lower stomach, and her thighs squeezed together. 

“Since you put me on the counter?” Her voice dipped- to that low, heady whisper she’d enchanted him with before. “When you pressed against me? Between my legs?” 

“Mhm,” he only hummed, his fatigue having shot away. 

“When you pulled my pants off?” she asked, closing her eyes as her hand slid between her parting thighs, goosebumps erupting along her sides and inner legs.

He stifled a groan when he adjusted himself, already sensitive. 

“When you touched me?” she whimpered breathlessly, and that was it. He let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, squeezing upwards along his dick. 

“You were so wet,” he moaned, pushing his briefs down with his wrists when she whined through the phone. “Smelled so good,”

“When you pushed in?” Her fingers slipped into herself. Her back tightened, her knees rising. “You were so big, like you were in my stomach,” she went on, her hips rocking in time with her fingers.

“You were so hot, you felt so fucking good,” he ground out, squeezing his shaft, his pelvis jerking involuntarily as he slowly pumped his fist. “I wanted to fuck you _hard_ ,” he growled. Callie shivered, starting to knead her tit beneath her sports bra. 

Onto her stomach she rolled, the phone falling and her ass in the air, her fingers rubbing wildly against her clit. She moved her hair from her face before leaning on her chest, her mouth close to the phone as she whined loudly. “I want you to fuck me,” 

“I wanna make you scream- I wanna taste you,” His pumps were speeding up, his head arched back into his pillow. His body was tensing, his movements becoming tight.

“Will you fuck me? Faster?” she begged, her body starting to stiffen, making his eyes roll back. 

“Holy fuck Callie,”

“Make me scream- fuck me harder, Nick!” she sang, on her elbow as the heat started to ebb from her center. 

His curses stumbled around Orkish and English, breathing heavily as he worked his throbbing member. 

“Nick- oh my God,” she gasped, and he felt his end coming as he listened to her fall apart. “I’m cumming-” she sobbed, her cries heightening until he could hear the climax pulsate through her, a symphony of his name singing from her lips while the thick heat of orgasm pumped the length of her body.

He shouted as he blew all over his stomach, relishing every slow pump until he was twitching and tender, limp against the bed. 

“Holy shit,” he panted. 

“Ditto, baby.” she mumbled with her ass still in the air, both of them laughing.

* * *

She’d done what was needed around her apartment; cleaning, organizing, but with no appetite, lunch was coming soon and the boredom was setting in. Nick had only been able to text a little, but she had been nervous anytime he did. 

_Fucking Ashely_. 

Any other time she’d appreciated the blunt honesty, but this had her realizing she was so fucking into Nick; more so than other flings that ended in disaster and kept her from dating for almost a year before him. More so that if he were like that, it’d be crushing. 

But now that her words were seeded in her mind and blooming, suppressing intrusive thoughts and harsh scenarios of Nick up and ditching her was near impossible. Callie had googled far too many ‘advice’ columns to help in any sense, and the lines between reality and what she may have been looking too hard into were blurred.

She exhaled and wandered to her kitchen, staring into her fridge. The insides of her lips were chewed raw after half a day of restlessness. 

_Not exactly in the mood for food_. 

The idea popped to the forefront of her mind, and grew more alluring with every passing second. 

A glance at the clock- she still had time to make it before his lunch break… _What if he didn’t want to see me_? 

She shimmied the thought off her shoulders. 

The bathroom was left hot and steamy after she showered, taking the extra time to savor the hot water beating against her back. She opted out of washing her hair today- the frizz the hot weather would inevitably cause if she wet her hair would make her look deranged, and she wanted to make a decent first impression on the people Nick worked with. A loose, black collared button up would fair well in the heat, especially carrying reheated pozole in a backpack. The more devious side to her decided against a bra. Even if he couldn’t tell, she liked the kick of confidence it gave.

She twisted her hips in her full-length mirror, applying the Tattoo Goo across her thigh after she’d lathered her arms, but then paused. 

Would he mind if others saw the art adorning her body…? 

She shook that off too. Even if he did, that wouldn’t be reason enough to cover up. She wouldn't bend to other peoples cruel wills again. 

But hair up or down? _Ugh_. 

Settled on half up, she stepped outside into the muggy weather, slipping her sunglasses on and departing. Callie didn’t tell him, either. It was intended to be a surprise… and to see if he really was avoiding her. She hated that it fueled her decision to do this, but she’d lose her mind wondering. If he was, then she really could never trust anyone. To think such a sweet guy was capable of this… 

_Shut up, you don't even know yet_.

The station was a bit of a walk from the bus stop, in the rougher part of town. A majority of the businesses around the precinct were human run, but that wasn’t much of a surprise. The concrete walls were ominous, and what with armored officers at the side gate, it was a little menacing. The front lobby after entering wasn’t really any better. Dull colors, a handful of officers standing around, talking, exchanging paperwork or stories. It looked like they’d attempted at some sort of welcoming decoration a few holidays back, but now they only collected dust. 

Callie approached the front desk where a couple men were sitting, giving her an up and down quickly. She moved her glasses up.

“What can I do for you, ma’am?” one of then asked. His flashy smile did little to flatter her; she could see right through the clean shaven exterior and into the mind that made questionable decisions. Like thinking that completely unauthentic tribal design tattooed on his bicep was a good idea. 

“May I speak to officer Jakoby please?” she put on her kindest- _although what was essentially forcing herself to_ \- smile, but her eyes narrowed when heads turned at the mention of his name.

Was that confusion she saw flicker across their faces? Maybe surprise? 

“Jakoby you said?” he repeated. 

“Mhm.” Her lips were still kicked up at the corners, but no more would come of that. The alarm bells were ringing in her head; this place was hostile, and it’d only taken a few words to see it.

He hesitated before he leaned back to grab the phone, intercomming Nick’s name to the front desk. 

“Be a minute.” he said flatly. _Ha, called it_ , she thought, moving aside to the far end of the counter. 

It gave her time to observe. A couple other officers filtered in and out, others bringing in a dwarf in cuffs, mumbling angrily. All the while she could feel sets of eyes on her. If she chose to glance at them, they’d act like they were scanning the room, but if three of them did it at once, it was a poor attempt at being subtle. Callie rolled her eyes. It had only been 2 minutes she was there and already she couldn’t understand how Nick managed to work here every day. Taking in the same bland walls, the fluorescent lighting, all the other officers that looked like they yelled at their wives in public. 

When Nick appeared from around the corner from a hallway, she hid her grin behind her hand that her chin was rested in, waiting. That uniform only aided that excellent body of his; he was already blessed with ideal dimensions, but the vest hung over those shoulders and the taut pants over his thighs- 

_Chill out_.

“What d’you need?” he asked them, who in turn pointed to her. 

She still hid her smirk when he saw her, but felt the doubt that had clung to her like a wet sheet dissolve when he smiled. 

“Hi,” she only voiced, looking up at him when he approached silently.

His golden eyes were bright, reaching down to get his arms around her before pulling her up against his chest. She was giddy, and aware there were eyes on them, but her feet still popped up until he placed her down. A slight turn, and he was kissing her, her palms against his face.

“You're a God send, you know that?” he sighed, chasing her smile when she tittered. 

“I just realized this might get you in trouble again,”

“Captain’s not here,” he whispered, placing a final kiss on her lips. 

“Are you getting a break soon? I brought you lunch,” she said as he fixed some of her fringe. 

“Yeah, c’mon.” Without facing any of the dumbfounded officers, he led her towards the doors, bending his arm behind her neck when she clung to his side. 

 

“Why d’you sit like that?” she giggled. 

“S’don’t spill on my uniform,” he got out, taking hearty bites of the hominy and chicken. “Everyone gets’on me about stupid shit- not givin’ them another reason,” Nick added, leaned over the tupperware between his thighs where he sat sideways on the bench. 

“They’re kinda... “ she tried to find the word, but frowned and weighed her hands. Nick nodded. Yeah, he got that. 

“Not all of’em are bad,” he stated, rolling another tortilla. 

“Can’t you talk to anyone in a different division about them overworking you? Anything?” Callie asked. 

His shoulders only rose once in answer. “Like they’d believe me,” he mumbled. She groaned. 

Even while she rambled about the biased nature of higher ups and their cruelty towards him, he adored watching her; her expressive hands doubling the emotions her eyes and brows portrayed. She caught onto his staring, eventually quieting and cocking her head when the seconds ticked by and his golden eyes remained unmoving.

“What?” she laughed, bumping his foot with hers. 

“I’m really glad you came by,” 

“Yeah?” 

He nodded. “Felt like I was losing my mind not bein’ able to see you,” he added. _Ah, that smile_. 

“Phone sex is gonna have to be a nightly thing if you keep working like this,” she said through the corner of her mouth. 

Nervousness didn’t rush him anymore. Now, there was only playful eyes and a crooked smile when she’d sweet talk him. He’d had his taste of Callie, and he wanted more. 

“Too bad there’s not the privacy of a kitchen here, eh?” he asked. 

He knew before he smelled it; that her body had responded how he wanted. The blood rushing, swelling, lubricating.

Her shirt was loose enough that he didn’t even have to try and slip his fingers just under the hem when she sat between his knees, having moved the food aside so she could kiss him properly; how she’d wanted to everyday the past week. Still so soft, and full, the same for the skin of her stomach where his hand rested, his thumb stroking below her belly button. 

“I’m not gonna be able to finish the rest of my day now,” he mumbled, following her mouth when she leaned back to grin at him. 

“Good, come home with me,” she said, near pleading, hands smoothing over his cheeks.

“If only,” he groaned, leaning into her soft caresses on the back of his neck.

They spoke softly, kissing, craving. She’d grab his hands, palm to palm, coaxing him to smile with bad jokes and quick kisses against his chin or jaw.

He breathed her scent in a while; he pressed soft kisses against her neck where her hair hid his face, his hands just rested on her hips. Stay away, a more protective side of him snarled, his eyes following gazes when people passed them by. Look at my girl, half of him wanted to shout, and show her off.

Looking at his watch over her shoulder, he sighed. 

“I gotta go,” he moaned. Callie frowned, the most exaggerated, adorable one he’d ever seen. 

“I have tomorrow off, let’s do something,” she tried, her eyes hopeful. He shook his head, the corner of his mouth pulling down. 

“Double shift tonight?” she asked. He nodded. 

“I want uninterrupted time with you,” she whispered. She thought she was sly when her bent knee grazed over his crotch.

“Don’t start,” he chuckled. It had already been physically painful knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra after his hand had skimmed her back. “First chance I get I’ll bring you home,” he said, gently biting her cheek, causing a fit of giggles. 

“You’re a lot less shy then before,” she pointed out, starting to pack away the emptied tupperware. 

“What can a guy do after not seeing his girlfriend for a week?” Nick stated, and waited for the rejection after making such an assumption. But a wide smile in return kicked away the doubt. 

“You gonna be my boothang?” she asked. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re gonna start calling me that.” he whined. She only laughed. 

Callie walked him back to the front, slowly that was, taking up all the time she could. They waddled in a circle as he held her, his face against her cheek as he mumbled sweet things, making her laugh before she pushed him away half-heartedly. A final kiss, and she was off. 

He practically glided when he walked back in, half a smile still present on his face.

“Jakoby,” 

The emotionless exterior he’d learned to wear fell back over. Four men behind the counter, all staring. 

_What the fuck did I do wrong now?_

“That your girlfriend?” one finally asked. Gerrald; the fucker that’d taken a liking to bothering him. The one who branded Callie as a whore. Nick was ready to point behind himself and shout, demanding if he still thought she even looked the part, but he smothered the fury that shot down to his fingertips.

“What do you care?” was his reply instead, his chest puffed out and his shoulders squared as he walked away. 

Shrugging them off was better than gloating. Leave them to their confusion; just seeing Callie wrapped around him was enough to make them question everything they’d said about them.

↠

“Hey, heard Callie came by?” Ward asked, meeting Nick on their way to the parking lot. 

“Yeah- are… are people talking about it?” Nick asked quietly. 

A few whispers had been clear enough for him to catch: _did you see Jakoby's girlfriend?_

“Damn gossip is all,” Ward reassured. 

“Why though?”

“They prolly bent outta shape that their own wives don't bring them lunch anymore,” Daryl tried. Nick thought on it… _was that really all_? “Callie got a body on her, too,” he added. 

Nick shoved him. 

“Hey chill, chill,” Ward chuckled. 

The cruiser still wasn’t done; regular inspection, but it always took long. The younger workers the dealerships sent for them were always rookies of their own, and would often need consultation when working on the stations modified SUV’s. 

“Hey,” Ward said, pulling Nick’s attention from his phone. 

“Do uh… is it weird for Orcs to date humans?” Daryl asked. Nick's hairless brows furrowed. 

“Why?” 

Ward shrugged. “You keep quiet about Callie, and I respect that- I do, but I don’t know. I figured you’d wanna be showing her off what with all the shit said,” he explained. “Dudes take a lot’a pride in they ladies. She’s definitely something to show off,” 

Nick’s eyes scanned over officers going about their own duties now that the rumors had hit their peak. It ended with what they could only assume was Nick paying Callie to hang around, because the possibility of a human and Orc being together just _couldn’t_ happen, for him especially. Was an escort any better than a whore?

“I wanted to. Callies’…” Nick took a breath. “I know why people think what they do. She’s crazy beautiful, and she’s _so_ smart and funny, Ward. Compassionate- kinda vicious sometimes but fuck, I can’t get enough of her,” he rambled. “But I mean, no matter what they see, or even if they met and talked to her, they're still gonna talk. She doesn’t need to be a part of that bullshit,” 

Ward nodded. “What does she say about it?” 

“Tells me to uppercut them,” Nick sighed. Ward chuckled. 

“Officer Jakoby,”

Both men turned to face their captain, exiting the building and out into the lot with them. 

“And this is where I’m fired.” Nick sighed, clenching his fists and meeting Heig halfway. 

“Sir?” 

Heig jerked a thumb in the direction of the front of the building. “You hit your hourly cap, go home,” He said begrudgingly. Nick’s ears flickered; Heig shuddered. 

“Really?”

“You hit your quota for the week?” he snapped. Nick nodded. 

“Then go, take tomorrow off too.” Was all he said before stomping away. That had sounded like Nick as being punished for something, but if he got to go home, what was it really? 

So he remained, not entirely sure of what to do. 

“Why aren’t you gettin’ the fuck outta here?” Ward hissed as he passed by. 

“I don’t know if I actually got into any trouble.” Nick mumbled, stepping sideways to grab for the back door. He was just about tell Callie he was free, but a finer idea came forth, and the phone was pushed back into his pocket, a sly grin tugging his mouth. 

↠

She should’ve worn better shoes, especially since she’d insisted on making a detour on her route to purchase a slurpee. If she was gonna be walking a few blocks the total of her journey that day, she wanted the refreshment. 

_Still hasn’t texted back. Must be on a call._

Her stomach had started to roil when ever he was called away. Any moment could be his last, and that thought stuck like a monkey on her shoulder.

It had been a long afternoon, she realized, upon turning the corner onto her street and spotting the units at the end. She felt like showering all over again and laying across her couch all night, but her empty stomach protested. 

_Maybe delivery?_ she considered, pausing the music blasting through her ear buds to skim through her options. 

**When are you gonna be home?**

“Finally.” she sighed in relief, but puzzlement took its place. 

**About 45 seconds, why?**

There was an audible groan when she started up the stairs, slipping a strap from her backpack off in search of her keys that were buried at the bottom. “Motherfucker.” she said under her breath, stumbling when she yanked them out, almost dropping her slurpee. 

“Long day?”

Nick’s voice melted the irritation before she even found him sitting at the top step, the hood of his jacket pulled over his pointed ears. 

Her smile was dopey as she finished climbing the last of the steps and walking right into him, her face nuzzling against his chest. 

“You okay?” he chuckled. She tilted her head back and nodded, smiling against his kiss. 

“At least I get a night with you,” she insinuated, wiggling her brows. 

“And a full day,”

“You got tomorrow off?” 

“Yep, so get a bag, you’re coming to my place this time.” he told her, his hands bouncing against her hips.

She held his hand in her lap as he drove, his fingers sometimes splaying over her thigh and his thumb tracing the outer line of a tattoo, all while they talked. About everything they’d already told one another, but to hear it in person meant seeing the smiles and hearing the laughter when they finished each others sentences. 

Again and again she asked him to tell her what their faces looked like when she’d left the station. Even as they stood aside waiting for their pizza in the small, stuffy parlor, and the too loud TV blasting through the narrow building, she asked him to say it close to her ear with his arms around her shoulders from behind.

“How many more times am I gonna have to say it?” he said against the shell of her ear.

“Until I can see it for myself,” 

“You gonna keep making surprise visits?”

“Bet your pretty ass,” Callie snickered when he blew air behind her ear. 

Soft voices behind the counter drew his attention, even as she spoke. Three teens stood around without other customers to keep them from chatting, but their hushed tones made him skeptical. They had visibly stuttered when Callie and himself first ordered their food after walking in hand in hand, and there had been a few more passing glances, but the laughter is what set a fire under his feet. 

“Nick!” Callie hissed. 

“Hm?” he answered, his eyes still on them as he leaned forward to bring his cheek closer hers. 

“Stop growling at them,”

He muttered something unintelligible, his hold on her tightening when he hid his face between his shoulder and her neck. 

“Just ignore them,”

“They should mind their own business,” 

“Just mind our own and they’ll stop.”

He snorted, uncurling from her. 

“What? You gonna stomp over there and pick ‘em up and throw them around?” she said lowly. Nick was vexed, and she swore she could see the slightest movement in his ears, as if he’d tried to flatten them against his skull. “Bug you that much?”

“Bug you that much?” she asked back. 

“I’ve told you before-”

“They’re harmless. They couldn’t do anything if they wanted, so calm down,”

That passive-aggressive grin unsettled her. “You make it sound easy.” he said under his breath before he walked past her. 

“Nick.” she called, his hand slipping from hers, but he was already grabbing their food. As quickly as she’d leaned against the wall to wait, he was nodding his head towards the exit. She trailed behind, her eyes always returning to watch the back of his neck instead of watching the busy parking lot around them. 

Getting a read on him was impossible sometimes. Callie had not yet mastered him, and only a few emotions were so clear for her to confidently identify. She’d seen him angry, but if this was what he was feeling, she’d never seen it in such an eerily calm manner. Silence made her panicky, and he was giving her a healthy dose of it as he drove again. 

“You told me it’s best to let it go. You told me that,” she voiced, having finally worked up the grit to see what kind of person he became in this type of situation. He leaned on his elbow against the center console, exhaling.

“I did,” He said cooly. “But i let it go when it’s pointed in my direction. It’s not just directed at me anymore when you’re around,”

She figured that. After the carnival, she’d known, and she expected it. It wasn’t a matter if she was or wasn’t okay with it. If enduring fools smacking their gums about being in a ‘crossover’ relationship with the Orc cop was what she had to do to be with him, she would, and she could. That hadn’t even been an issue she’d fretted over until Nick started reacting to it. 

“It really doesn’t get to me,” she stated, her hand moving to pluck his fingers. “You shouldn’t let it bother you anymore than other things do, too.”

“I know, but you also know it’s hard to understand someone’s situation without personal experience.” he chose to say. It stung some, to hear. Her lips pursed as it settled, but nodded in the end. He was right, afterall. 

His eyes remained trained to the road as he pulled the back of her hand against his lips for a lingering kiss, and let her bring his fist back into her lap for the remainder of the ride. 

↠

He reached inside to flip on the lights before standing aside, gesturing for her to step in. 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” was what he said, receiving a limp smack against his chest when she wandered in. 

“Don’t ruin this for me,” she mumbled, widened eyes taking it all in. From the outside, she’d been able to tell it was big; bigger than she was used to. A wide front yard and sheltered porch with burnt bamboo roll-up shades had already painted a picture of someone who liked to spend time outside, working on his healthy lawn or relaxing in the shade. 

Inside, it told a story of a man who’d built his comfort around his solitude, but kept enough warmth to remind him that he still had people to lean on. Big furniture, all worn in but tempting to lay across, nice TV, table set around a corner. A handful of pictures he had hanging up immediately drew her in. 

“Thought I hid those,” she heard him call, turning only a moment to see him walking into his kitchen. 

She couldn’t help but smile when she spotted him. It only took a few meetings from the beginning to recognize his markings and sharp cheekbones, so finding him in family photos was easy, even with his tusks still in tact. The timeline was jumpy and left lots to ask about in between, but she could see a definite difference in the shaping from a child, to a man. 

“Did you never smile in these?” she asked. Even in the only toddler one, there he was, stoic as ever. 

“Told you I hate taking pictures,” he replied, walking to her with a beer in each fist. 

“Parents?” she asked, pointing. Nick nodded, sipping his bottle, but her face soured when she drank. “Is this Orkish beer?” 

“I drank the Modelos,” he challenged. Narrow eyes shot back, and she bit her tongue when she sipped the strong beverage again. 

“No siblings?” she questioned, moving along the wall to follow the frames. 

“Nah, lots of “cousins” though, big extended family spread out across the states,” 

“Your parents are in LA?”

“Mhm, mom flips houses and dad teaches at CSU,”

Callie smirked. “That how you got this big place?”

He snorted. “Hell no. Even though I helped with the renovations I still don’t get any discount. This just happened to be the smallest place she was gonna be selling,”

“Definitely not babied then,” she tittered. “What’s their names?”

“Dinara and Oleg,” 

“And you’re just _Nick_?” 

“I’m just Nick,” 

There were subtle similarities to his parents; markings were unique to every Orc, but it was astounding how alike he looked to his father. 

“I wish there was more,” she whispered, lithe fingertips caresing the glass over a shot of him his mother had cherished. A rare grin, before his tusks had been filed down, and before the silent rage burned behind the calm exterior he put up after years of torment. 

“I’ve seen my face in enough YouTube videos to be fine with _never_ taking another picture,” 

The manner her hand retracted in alerted him that he’d spoken with more distaste than he'd meant, and her smile had vanished, leaving him agitated. _Way to fucking go_.

“Lemme take this,” he grunted, sliding the bag off her shoulder. She allowed him, but remained when he moved down the hallway. 

Callie exhaled, looking down at her drink. Second time under an hour she’d managed to piss him off. Better yet, it was just the beginning of a night she’d been hoping for for days and she’d already gone and fucked it up. She scratched her scalp angrily, the ball of her foot twisting against the floor. With a hard exhale, she moved to his wide kitchen, searching cabinets for plates. 

Her brows furrowed. There was barely enough to feed a few people, and even less cookware. Callie’s concern compelled her to open his fridge, but she only found herself asking more questions. 

“ _Nick_ ,” she carped, leaning to look past the beers and sauces, but only finding leftovers from various fast food chains. 

“What?”

She stood to find him leaning in the doorway; how long had he been there?

“Do you live on fast food?” she asked. 

He nodded indifferently. “And canned foods,”

But then she glared. “How do you stay so _thin_?”

Nick snorted, the grin unstoppable. She leaned back against the closed fridge when he went about retrieving plates, stacking slices on either one before handing one over. 

“Can you cook?” she questioned. He was already halfway through a thick slice when he shrugged again, moving the food to his cheek. 

“More or less,”

“I’m not talking about instant foods,”

A small flicker of his ears gave him that crooked grin; the personal one she’d shown no other. “How’s your pizza?” he asked instead, but she let it slide, watching him mow through another piece knowing in a couple hours, he’d just be ready to eat again. 

An unnatural silence lolled, only their soft chewing heard. The manner of his voice when he spoke of his photograph still saddled her mind.

“I’m sorry,” she started, keeping her eyes on her plate where she was comfortable. “For making you angry again. I didn’t know taking pictures was such a big deal. I mean- I didn’t know they made you upset, not that it’s a big deal. Or not that it’s not a big deal,” she rambled, meeting his amused eyes hesitantly. 

“What?” she snapped. 

“You’re cute,” he mumbled around a mouthful, and his smile grew wider when she continued to glare. 

“Did you not hear me apologizing?”

He set his plate down to cross the distance between them and squish her against his chest. She could hear quiet chuckles in his chest the longer she stood limp against him. 

“It’s not funny.” she stated, but he wiggled his face down to kiss her cheek. 

↠

A few beers after eating had lead them to his couch, her knee over his and his fingertips stroking her inner thigh while they watched that movie she’d sworn deserved more recognition, but Nick just didn’t see it. 

“I mean it’s creepy but it’s not _scary_ ,” he mumbled. 

“The fuck it isn’t! Are you even using your imagination?” she asked, sitting up on her hands to lean in. “Do you even have one, Nick?”

“It would’ve been scary if they used actual monsters instead of… humanoid looking whatever the fuck those are,” he chuckled. She rolled her eyes and sat back, the twist of her hips bringing her closer against his side. His pinky flicked lightly at the hem of her shorts, but it was unknown if she even noticed in her addled state. It had only taken 2 Orkish beers to get her there after she swore she wasn’t a lightweight. 

“I think it’s scary,” she sighed. 

“You also think closed shower curtains are scary,” he murmured into his bottle. Her elbow in his side caused a sputter, and he caught her half grin. 

He swallowed the temptation to lean over and pull the buttons apart that cloaked her nipples he could see raised under the thin shirt, but when she’d rest her arms over the back of the couch, it was harder not to push her knees apart and touch her. 

All fucking night, there had been varied glances and soft caresses. The side of his palm would brush the bend of her inner thigh while his hand massaged. Often, he’d twist his wrist to run the knuckles of his fingers against her, daring to slip under the hem of her shorts. It wasn’t that he was hesitant. He kinda liked this slow teasing. Hearing her breath catch mid-sentence, or watching her stomach tense, her eyes darting down to watch.

So were her starry eyes telling him to fuck her? Or was it her mind clouding more with every bottle they finished, trying to ease her wild thirst?

“Movies over,” 

Callie finally looked at him. Heavy eyes, and her knee bending up. He squeezed her leg gently, and she licked her lips.

“D’you like it?” she breathed. 

He nodded, his grin making her brows furrow. “You look like you’re about to pass out,”

She shook her head in an exaggerated manner. “S’just hot,” she fanned her flushed cheeks for added point. 

She was. The supple skin of her thighs was febrile, but he didn’t feel much of it until he started really looking at her. When had she undone those top buttons to her shirt? Probably while he was watching her hips wiggle around when he’d snake his hand closer to the juncture of her thighs. 

Her big eyes fluttered when she giggled. “You have a staring problem,” 

There was that same tone she’d used when she’d told him to touch her in her kitchen. Whispered, heady, wanton. 

“I do with you,” he admitted, shamelessly. Her knee wiggled atop his, and he heard her breathing slow, deepen. The curve her body held slumped against his couch… she looked like a predator, studying. Attack, or lie in wait? 

He was her prey, drawn in by the glimmer her brilliant eyes shined. 

“What do you wanna do?” he asked softly. 

“You.” 

Nick was unhinged. 

The bend of her frame shifted to arch against him when he moved between her thighs, his mouth finding hers instantly. She mewled, her arms circling loosely around his neck at the same time his rough palms slid up her sides, pushing the thin fabric away from her chest. His weight atop her pushed her deeper into the cushions, so she locked her ankles behind him, squeezing his hips. 

He placed chaste kisses on her open mouth while they both fumbled with the buttons. 

“No more button ups,” he panted, impatiently tugging at the fabric. 

He pushed it down her arms haphazardly while she sat forward to shake it off. And there was more fucking tattoos. A black, shimmering snake curling around lush pink flowers right below her breasts, and matching heartagram designs running down her sides.

But a long, winding scar that followed the angle of her belly button stopped him. How had this gone unnoticed? 

“Cal?” He said timidly, confusion swimming in his eyes. 

“It’s old- from a couple years ago,” she said softly, her hands hung on his when he smoothed his palm over the scar. 

“The cysts?”

She nodded again. 

It had never occurred to him they could become so severe, so to think she at one point was opened… it chilled him some. 

He kept his eyes on her when he kissed her stomach. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled, moving up. 

She hollered when he blew a raspberry against her sternum, her efforts to push him away futile when he did it again on her ribs. Callie’s laugh melted into a long moan when his tongue sought one of her tawny brown nipples, resting back against the couch. 

Sharp gasps and her nails digging into his skin; every time he caught one between his sharp teeth, she’d move a little more, her center grinding against his throbbing cock that demanded attention. 

He smiled against the skin at the center of her chest when her heels pushed on his sweats. 

“Mm, testy.” he leaned up to kiss her, growling when she bit down on his bottom lip. 

She fisted his shirt in her hands when he sat up, pulling it off his body. It flung somewhere behind the couch when she gripped the back, lifting her hips so Nick could wiggle her shorts from under her ass and off her feet. And she stayed like that; bracing herself, her thighs trembling when he inhaled deeply against her hip, his open mouth dragging down. 

The aroma was drawing him in. His mouth watered, his throat tingling as he breathed her essence.

A strangled cry fought past her lips when he slipped his middle fingers to his knuckles into her hot passage, stroking upwards in a come hither fashion. Nick pulled them out, and couldn't resist sucking the juices off, growling. So sweet. 

He kissed her shaven lips, Callie whined. When he slid his tongue between her folds, she bent. Whimpering, tensing, then finally relaxing her thighs when he slid his arms beneath them and stroked the tops lovingly. 

Her entire body vibrated under his mouth. He’d only taken a few wide, sweeping passes at her soaked slit before sucking her clit into his mouth gently. 

Dexterous laps against her aching center had her gasping, clinging, her eyes rolled back as he held his hands flat against her stomach, her thighs now rested in the crooks of his elbows. 

“So weav,” he slurred, “uko hoav.”

Their eyes met when she’d managed to look at him amongst his ceaseless assault, and the voracious temper of his amber eyes made her hotter. Callie whined loudly, her writhing body becoming more erratic, causing Nick to hold her still, and to devour her further; to consume all she had to give, anything that leaked from her center that tasted fucking heavenly. 

“Nick!” she gasped, her hands slapping down against his arms. His eyes shot up. 

“Hm?” His mouth opened to take in all he could, his lips closing around her clit. “Tell me what you want, baby,” His thumbs circled against her sides, his tongue mimicking. 

Her head lolled when she sat up, eyes heavy when she rocked her pelvis. “There- right there,” she harshly exhaled, her dark waves framing her flushed cheeks and the ends tickling the damp skin of her trembling breasts.

He intensified his attentions to her spot, witnessing the immediate reaction her body jerked from. 

“ _Ho my_ -” she choked. He felt his gut twisting, his dick throbbing, watching her climb closer. Her hips twisted forcibly under his hold, her mouth starting to drop open and her eyes fluttering again. 

She was panting, her hands flying to grasp the cushions behind her when she fell back. “I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum I’m gonna _cuh_ -”

The forcible grinds of her pelvis slowed, now rocking languidly with whatever energy she had left. She chanted his name alongside unintelligible mumbles of appreciation, all while at the mercy of the power pumping through her body.

He stopped when her body lurched and grunted with every soft pass of his lips against her sensitive pearl, and he wiped his mouth against her inner thigh before moving up her spent body. A kiss on her hip where a bruise would surely form after pinning her down. Her ribs, licking up her neck and across her jaw- fuck, her skin was sweet- catching her lips.

“Alright?” he asked against her mouth. Unsteady hands stroked his face, her mind coming together again. 

“Oh yeah,” she breathed, smiling, laughing against his own grin as he rained tender kisses across the side of her face. 

“You still look sleepy,” he mumbled open mouthed kisses along her neck. 

“Nah, I’m floating,” she whispered. His stomach tensed when her hand followed it downwards.

He whined lowly when her hand slipped under the waistband and wrapped her lithe fingers around him. His forehead slid across her cheek to rest in the crook of her neck, arching up to watch her tug long strokes down his sensitive shaft. 

“You’ll float too!” she rasped in a sinister tone. Nick snorted loudly, followed by Callie’s. 

“Funny, right?” she giggled, yelping when he bit down on her shoulder playfully. 

Hands flat against his chest pushed him back, and her bare lap slid into his as she pushed him aside, her thigh throwing over him once he was sat. Nick’s feet pushed his coffee table away, and the half empty bottles spilled across its glass surface loudly. 

He pushed his sweats down enough before sitting back against his couch. His dick slapped against his stomach, but soon was clutched in her grasp when she rose on her knees over him to trace the blunt head from her clit down to her entrance. Callie breathed in time with the slow passes she made up and down only half his length, the low burn of accommodating to his girth minor this time around. 

Nick held her thighs in lieu of her hips; he couldn’t trust himself not to force her down, to completely encase in her heat. 

So he looked up, and kissed her slowly, his wide hands skipping over her hips and holding her against his chest as she dropped lower and lower until his balls touched her cheeks. 

“Hello again,” she trembled. Nick hissed when she circled her hips. 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” he cried, hiding his face against her chest, groaning when he slipped from her, only to shove back in with a smooth dip of her pelvis. He loved seeing where he ended and she began.

“Perfect…” he moaned. “So perfect. You’re so beautiful, Callie,” 

She hushed him, kissing the corner of his mouth. He whined when her walls clenched. 

“No, you are,” she whispered, her tongue slipping in. Nick whined, fingers tangling in her hair. But her mouth left, and she grasped his shoulder to lean back, resting the other hand on his knee.

Snapping her hips forward and backward like that, Nick was already barreling towards a brilliant end that not even rapt concentration could postpone. 

“Callie- Callie slow down-” he gnarled through bared teeth, his head hung and eyes pinched shut. 

She smiled, her hair sticking to her neck and chest, but she didn’t ease up. 

It was about to happen. His wide dick pumping into her pussy, the heat surrounding him and her cunt still fluttering from her orgasm were his demise. 

“Get off I’m gonna cum!” he whined desperately, the iris of his eyes blacking out the gold.

“Cum in me,” she sighed, both hands holding the back of his neck, relying on the roll of her hips to push him over the edge. He cried, loudly, gasping, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her sides. “Cum in me, Nick,” she moaned, pressing her cheek against his temple. 

Then it was the roaring engine of his orgasm ripping him apart. He yelled into her skin, pulling her ass down so he shot hot pulses of semen against her cervix. Callie’s knees slid outward against the floor, her body slowing, milking him until his strong arms unwound from her waist and he angled his face to look up.

Callie stroked his cheeks, kissing him sweetly while his cock slowly start to shrink in her. Her arms wound about his neck as he held her against his panting body. It was hot, sticky- but she smelled like nothing he’d ever encountered. The intense spice was mellow, but now there was something savory amongst her skin. Rich, and warm. 

“D’you need to move?” he mumbled, kissing her collarbone.

“Nah, you have me plugged up.” she said. He snorted against her shoulder, holding her tighter when she nuzzled her face against his cheek.

* * *

The piercing alarm of his phone rattled them awake when the sun was still cast blue over LA. 

She hid her face as Nick reached over her to smack the screen until it stopped. 

She was already slipping back under, but his thumb drawing designs against her bare stomach kept her awake in part. She knew he’d rise soon, so she counted the seconds he was still pressed against her, hidden in blankets and arms.

“Gotta get up,” he maundered. Callie groaned. 

A kiss on her shoulder before he sat at the edge of the bed finally got her to roll over, her hand brushing his back before he stood and stretched. The muscles tensed entirely under the patterned skin covering his body before dropping his arms and bouncing back on his heels, staggering from the room

In only panties, the chill from the AC kept her pulled in, flattened hands rubbing up and down her thighs once she’d sat where he had.

A handful of bruised bites and hickeys littered her breasts and hips. Some partially hidden beneath her underwear, and a bite that was high, directly under her jaw was particularly sore when her palms smoothed to the back of her neck. Her hair would hide it easily, but if she kept flushing like she was now, it’d be pointless. Her face dropped between her elbows, her thighs pinching. 

_She’d lost the energy to speak after the orgasm slowly ebbed from her system. The drawn drop of her climax was still quivering around his dick while he pistoned into her, his gaze averted to watch where they came together._

_I can do better next time, he’d said. He hadn’t been dishonest._

_It had started rough and was ending soft. The burn of his bite under her jaw had created an unexpected sensation, aiding to the pulses of pleasure while he fucked her. He’d promised he hadn’t broke skin, yet it still turned her on knowing she was marked._

_With both wrists pinned against the mattress, she could do little until he finished, and with her knees bowed and bobbing at his sides, she was at his mercy. There wasn’t a real desire to stop him, however. Not that shock of euphoria everytime he slammed in, punishing the formerly untouched point inside herself that begged to be touched._

_But the peaked and now lasting aftershocks were making her dizzy, and breathless._

_“Nick…” she whined, her eyes barely open._

_His lips found hers softly, and she moaned appreciatively when he slowed to long strokes, pressing his pelvis tight to hers with every insert._

_“Okay?” he puffed. A slow nod, her neck bowing as her spine did. He freed his grasp around her wrists to lay closer, baring most of his weight on his elbows and his face hidden against her neck._

She pulled her hair back when the flush blossomed across her chest, and it was hot even in the AC that had kept her tight against Nick all night. If she kept at this, he’d catch her arousal soon enough. Maybe she could get one in before it was time to leave…

“Are you working today?” he asked around his toothbrush. His eyes still conveyed sleepiness when his shirtless frame leaned in the doorway. 

“In a few hours,” she mumbled. 

When he’d marred her body with his attentions, he’d done so in a way where she wouldn’t struggle to hide them. Now, it was almost a shame no one else would see she was spoken for. He crossed his ankles when his dick twitched, having to force his eyes away from her partially parted thighs. 

“I’ll take you home,” he offered. 

“Yes you will.” she cooed, eyeing him from behind her messy fringe. Damn the toothbrush in his mouth, otherwise he would’ve devoured her right then and there. 

Instead, they shared his bathroom as she scrubbed her own teeth, still bare chested and leaned back on the counter beside him as they chatted about breakfast and the day before them. He could finally kiss her once she’d rinsed her mouth, but the time was winding down faster as he caressed her lips sweetly, running the back of his knuckles against the shimmering snake at her sternum. 

Callie cooked while he dressed; she’d only needed to pull on her shorts and a borrowed shirt of his, and argued he could have it back when he replaced the tank-tops he’d ripped. Nick’s arms circled her while she stirred, trying to shrug him off with a wide smile when he rested his lips behind her jaw.

His scent was _in_ her. It was like he’d become a part of her, but pumping her full of his semen for a weekend would do it. Orcs would smell it, and his presence would be better respected, even amongst the ones that still thought him a traitor. 

Frijoles con huevos was a first for him, but two servings down, and it was a new favorite, even if she was forced to use the canned refried beans that had sat in his cabinet for weeks.

She stuffed her clothes and belongings in her bag, slipped her sandals on and followed him out by the time the sun was sliding it’s fingers through the trees and casting tall shadows across the ground. It was already warm; she hated it. 

The wind tousled her tangled waves, and he couldn’t help look at her again and again, leaned back in the passenger seat with her sunglasses on, holding his hand in her lap with the radio blasting Vektor.

When he stopped in front of her apartment, she kissed him long with a hand laid on his chest. 

“Sure you don’t wanna call out?” she asked, licking his top lip. 

“Shut up,” he groaned, his hand still on her thigh but starting to rotate inwards. “Tell ‘em you got caught up in something?” she smiled. He gave her leg a light squeeze and kissed the bite under her jaw. 

“Go before we get the cops called on us for lewd activity in a car.” he said, and she laughed. Nick watched her walk up and wave him goodbye before he left, a half smirk on his face the entire ride to the precinct. 

↠

Cold hands pulled her hair from her face, and Ashely gasped when she saw the bite mark. 

“So they _do_ bite?” she hissed, smiling widely as Callie fluttered her hair around her face. 

“No, I think it’s a kink of his,” she replied softly. 

“You got hickeys on your booty too?” the blonde teased, poking he ribs. 

“Inner thighs,” Callie whispered, walking around the counter to stack packets of gum lining the front. 

Ashely cocked a brow, quickly ringing up a customer in time for Callie to come back around the counter. She moved a little slow; after those couple days, the soreness settled in her lower stomach, almost as if he’d literally beaten her insides. She giggled inwardly at that thought. 

“So tell me then,” Ashely paused to pack her smokes. “How was he?”

“No smoking!” Her uncle boomed from the back. 

“I’m not!” she looked back at Callie, a cigarette bobbing between her lips. 

“Lord forbid we breakup- I’m never going back to human,” Callie sighed, leaning back against the register. 

“That good, huh?” She pulled a match against the strike pad, walking backwards towards the rear door as the smoke lit. 

Callie exhaled, recalling the pounding, begging, yelling. The way she floated after every climax, coming back down to earth with a wide smile and rosey cheeks to land right in his arms. 

“It’s like he uses every muscle in his body.” she suspired, her head resting back against the wall of cigarettes.

↠

Ward could see something had changed the Orc, seemingly in the span of just a weekend. 

Where Nick’s hands usually gripped the steering wheel, it was his wrist that rested over the top, his other elbow leaned against the center console. He’d been cracked like a glowstick, tension no longer riddling his body. 

“Chill weekend?” Ward asked, just to poke fun. 

Nick suppressed a wider smile then the half grin he gave, palming the wheel to turn. 

_She laughed loudly, her eyes pinched shut as the suds ran down her face._

_“Stop laughing,” he grunted, trying to suppress his own laughter. How the fuck do she do this with all this hair?_

_“You’re making it worse,” she giggled, shooing his hands away after the miserable attempt at washing her locks. Fuck who ever said that was sexy to do with your partner in the shower._

_He watched her rinse her hair, the bubbles running down her wet body. Her eyes cracked open._

_“Don’t be grumpy,”_

_“I’m not,”_

_“Some people just aren’t good at certain things,”_

_He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, maybe it’s cause I’m not a hairball like you,”_

_“Don’t talk about my spikey legs like that!” she smiled, pushing on his chest. He caught her hand._

_“Stop being such a shit-head then.” he said close to her mouth, running his palms along her soaked body. Nothing was between them this time; no panties moved aside or pushed up shirts, not even a solitary sock that caught around his heel. It was her soft body against his unmovable frame; her legs wrapping around his hips when he effortlessly forced her up against the wall, her hands shooting up to carry some of her weight on the small windows ledge._

_He barely dipped his wide tip in, poking her clenched pussy teasingly._

_“You fucking asshole.” she reviled, tightening her thighs. She could feel his smile against her jaw._

“Mhm.” Nick hummed. 

Daryl hadn’t been oblivious to the fresh scratches overlapping the length of the Orcs back and arms when they’d changed in the locker room, but even before that, it was easy to assume where he’d spent his days off; by the way he’d strode into the station, his chin raised proudly. 

Ward nodded, looking back to the road. ”My man.”

 

_The lights hung across the ceiling of the overhang were dreamy. Dim, but enough glow to let her see into his wide yard, and the infant bell peppers growing at the edge of the grass before a stoned incline held a lemon and orange tree. His neighborhood was quiet, unlike hers, where there was always a party somewhere within vicinity all throughout the week. Tall fencing meant she could wrap a thin blanket around her shoulders to hide her bra and panties where she sat in a lawn chair, and in addition hide his nearly bare form, only a pair of shorts hung low on his narrow hips._

_“Ih hot,” he told her, handing over the dark mug with his own in other hand and a stack of thin cookies between his teeth. Callie eyed the cream colored tea, worried it’d be like the beer, but warm apple cinnamon wafting from the hot beverage gave her delightful goosebumps. He was already drinking his by the time she sipped hers, moaning at the luxurious, creamy sweetness of it._

_“Good?” he asked, placing half of the cookies on her knee._

_“It’s so smooth,” she mumbled. Tea had never been her thing, but she might have to start taking detours to Orkish outlets if it meant indulging in this. She mimicked when he dipped a cookie in his own mug; fuck, tasted even sweeter. “Oh my god,” Callie whined._

_“Told you,” he sang._

_Roaming eyes inspected the patio; the intimate table set they’d pulled their chairs from after deciding it had gotten too hot in his house, but behind that, an impressive collection of weights and a bench press caught her interest._

_“You lift?” she asked, pointing with a cookie. His forehead creased when his brows rose, drinking._

_“How much can you?” she grinned, holding her mug against her chest._

_Nick shrugged, around a mouthful, “Little more than 350,”_

_She sipped her tea with wonder in her shining eyes, and tossed her head to move her fringe. “Well then? Show me that flex,” Callie smiled, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders._

_Nick made her wait until he’d swallowed every last crumb and drop, shushing her with a waving finger everytime she rushed him. But with a few playful flexes, he tensed his raised arms, emphasizing the hard muscle beneath she’d felt around her before. It was his chest and stomach, too. Firm pecs and smooth belly, more muscle around his hips and back. Ugh, there wasn’t a part of him she wouldn’t run her tongue across._

_She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes fluttering. “How didn’t another girl scoop you up?”_

_“Cause they waited to ditch me at the restaurants,” he mumbled._

_Callie’s brows twitched. “What?”_

_He shrugged._

_“Did that happen?” she asked._

_“Last date I was on like… 6 months ago? Told her I was a cop, said she had to use the restroom, n’ ended up sitting at the table for half an hour before I figured she wasn’t coming back,” he explained, his temple rested against the heel of his palm. She could see by the way his eyes avoided hers that embarrassment still clung to that memory._

_“I’m glad she wasn’t a decent person, otherwise I never would’ve had a chance,” Callie said, bringing his eyes back. He pulled her palm against his lips when she stroked his cheek, relishing in her soft skin._

_“Where would I be without you?”_

_“Still making excuses to come by the liquor store.”_

_He bit her hand gently, starting a fit of giggles._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Traaaaaaaaaaaanslations!  
> So weav - uko hoav: "So wet" , "So hot"


	6. Brave

**Few more minutes! Sorry**

He leaned back against the passenger side door of his truck. **No worries baby**

Under the setting sun, it was a bearable time of day in the middle of the summer to wait outside for Callie to finish her shift. 

Three weeks on, and they’d fallen into a cozy pattern of spending the night at each others places when they could, texting and snapchats always in between. Lunch dates, wandering around the weekend swapmeets, and often just relaxing together on a sofa, with their phones in hand, wholly content with the silent presence. 

The street was bustling that late afternoon, a lot of the business moving through the liquor store, creating hold ups and delaying her exit. 

“Blue skinned fuck.”

Nick’s head snapped in the direction the words had been muttered. 

“Fucking mexican pussy don’t give you any right to hang around here,” a younger man sneered, walking backwards to call over the heads of people that had turned to listen. Stunted height, backyard tattoos fading on his arms, and a crooked diamond tattooed beside his sunken eyes. 

Verbal attacks were one thing. Mentioning Callie? Another. But what unsettled him was how he knew about her, and was now blasting it across a sidewalk. 

“Nope,” Callie piped, grabbing Nick’s arm just as he’d pushed off his truck, the hard arch of his brow shadowing his heated eyes. “C’mon, amore,” she said, patting his chest, leaning to attempt at pulling his glare away. 

“Thass right, listen to your bitch!” 

Nick stepped, but Callie still held steadfast. 

“Baby look at me. Nick, look at me,” she called, putting herself between them. “Let’s go- he’s a piece of shit, it’s not worth it,”

He barely felt her pushing him back, but he could perceive enough through the ire to hear her talking, yet he couldn’t drag his eyes away. 

“Jiak'll nauk-membas lat,” Nick snarled quietly, his finger jabbing in the mans direction, but he’d already rounded a corner, the two men beside him bellowing with laughter. 

He finally looked down, deep breaths still flaring through his nostrils. Reserved panic was evident on her face; she didn’t want him exploding again like he had a week prior. Stares of fascination bothered him as much as disgusted ones did, and it had come to head viciously. It took Callie literally pushing her weight against him to shove him away from the cowering teen who’s curiosity had lingered a few seconds too long. 

“Okay?” she asked, her hands weighted on his chest, ready to stop him if he decided to charge. He wouldn't- not if it scared her, even if she didn't fully understand. 

“Okay,” he exhaled, looking back when he opened the passenger side door for her. The turned heads had gone back to their own business, but he was sure it would eventually stir the gossip that was dim compared to the firestorm it was a year ago. As long as Callie’s face stayed off of the sparse videos, he’d bite his tongue and keep the annoyance at it muzzled. 

“Are you okay?” she asked again when he’d sat behind the steering wheel. 

“Have you seen him before?” he asked though. Callie’s eyes drifted as she thought, but she shook her head with the corner of her mouth pulled in after there was no familiarity. “Have you?” she questioned. 

“No but he talked shit like he’d seen enough,” Nick grumbled, waiting to pull onto the busy street. 

“Probably a loiterer that couldn’t keep his eyes to himself.” she decided, connecting her phone to the stereo and crossing crossing her legs in the seat. 

“Mm,” he hummed, leaning to glance down the street when they drove past. “Still need to go to the store?” 

↠

The oversized cart she’d insisted on taking in was only inhabited by the bulk size shampoo and conditioner, which didn’t bother him, but being the one to maneuver it through the crowds did. 

“For samples, _duh_ ,” she toyed, flipping the child seats down and placing the handfuls of snacks she’d snagged from the stands. He rolled his eyes, reluctantly nibbling on the seasoned crackers she knew he liked. 

“Wanna get hot dogs outside? I’m too lazy to cook tonight,” 

“Sure- hey I gotta ask you something,” Nick responded, leaned on his elbows against the handle of the cart so he was closer to her. She looked at him with a small spoon between her lips after devouring the cheesecake sample. “Ward’s having a barbeque at his place this weekend, and I was invited but I told him I’d only go if you came with me,” he explained. 

“You say it like you don’t actually wanna go,” she grinned. 

“S’not that; I dislike everyone who does the same to me but having you there would make it bearable,” 

“Gonna be booze?” 

“Bound to be,” 

“Can’t be that bad, then. Finally revealing our secret life?” she taunted, bumping into his side. 

“It’s not a _secret_ ,” he implored, for maybe the fiftieth time. 

“Keep sayin’ that, baby. But yes, I’d love to go,” she finally answered, leaning her cheek against his shoulder so he’d kiss her. “The thought of you going alone is like thinking of a puppy abandoned on the side of the road,” 

Nick’s eyes narrowed, his lip curled in humor. “I can fend for myself, you know,” 

“I know, but now I’m getting excited thinking about their faces. I get to see it myself now,” she smiled, her shoulders pulled in. “Now let’s go, I’m in the mood for a big dog,” 

He snorted shortly, playfully smacking her bottom in the empty aisle. 

They endured the seemingly never ending checkout lines; long enough that Callie had successfully gone back for seconds to the sample stands they favored. Long enough that they almost managed to finish an episode of Stranger Things, but they were only greeted by more lines outside in addition to people shoving their carts around in the race to secure a seat amongst the tightly packed tables. 

Callie and Nick thought better to drop their purchases off in his truck before daring the lengthy line, and both almost called it quits. After being on their feet all day, a drive thru was becoming more appealing, but when Nick held around her shoulders from behind, he found he could bare just some weight against her when she leaned back into him, both their feet shuffling along when the line progressed. 

Nick had also seen the woman staring, but figured she’d keep her comments to herself even though she looked to be the kind of church going woman who had a pocket bible ready to whip out and recite from. So he bit his tongue, and clenched his fists instead of Callie’s arms he’d been stroking, and swallowed his anger.

“Can I help you?” Callie bit back when the woman side eyed them. “Cal,” he muttered against the shell of her ear. 

His hopes to keep her vexation curbed became pointless when the older woman turned her shoulders to face them, and leaned in. Nick’s immediate instinct was to tighten his arms around Callie when he felt her begin to push off; he was sure if the stranger had reached for them, Callie’s elbow would’ve swung right into her jaw. 

“I hope you two are aware of the risk you’re taking knowing full well how deformed crossover children come out. God loves all, and even the reject Orcs, but he cannot forgive the capricious and immoral pair that damned that already cursed child to hell!” she blighted under hushed tones through long, cigarette stained teeth, her head trembling with restraint. 

Nick scoffed before Callie did, only after they’d briefly gawked in disbelief. 

“Do you even know what a halfling looks like?” Nick asked. Callie reached back to pat his hip, hoping the combative side of Nick was placid, but choosing to speak English was his reassurance. Before an outburst, Nick was strictly Orc again, bellowing the old language like fire lashing off his tongue. 

“Deformed! Easy to spot ‘em,” she grinned. 

“There’s one in line right now,” Nick retorted. Even Callie looked, fast eyes moving over multiple faces.

“Is not!” the woman yelped. 

“You can’t tell cause they look normal,” 

“There’s nothing normal about the unholy joining of a human and Orc!” she hissed, but Callie was already waving away her words. 

“Go suck a crucifix.” she muttered, earning a smothered chuckle from Nick against her hair. Hushed curses still spilled from the woman’s quivering mouth, but she’d made the effort to stand farther from the pair, clutching her purse to her side like one of them had made a move for it. 

This time it was Nick calming Callie’s unrest, slowly swaying them side to side, his arms still held around her. 

“Retract your claws, beautiful,” he whispered close to her ear. Leaning her head back gave him chance to peck the smooth curve of her jaw; a spot he knew would be her undoing. A soft sigh was the last of her storm, her frame softening. 

“Are there really some in line?” she whispered. Nick nodded, turning her shoulders just enough. 

“The one with the plaid shirt,” 

Callie carefully observed, but there was nothing that jumped out at her. “Are you sure?” she asked. 

“Look at the arms,”

“Oh shit,” she grinned, admiring the toffee colored skin of the girl that speckled into darker green splotches, weaving up her arms before her shirt covered. 

“Must have a human father,” Nick groaned, raising his arms to stretch. Callie was hypnotised, painfully compelled to touch her skin that looked smoother than silk. 

“That’s why she doesn’t have tusks?” Callie questioned. 

“Probably,” 

Callie drew in air sharply, hiding her excitement. “She has gold eyes!” she hissed. 

“Shh!” Nick poked her side. 

“So if we…” but she paused, and he could see the question looping in her eyes. “Nevermind.” 

He knew what she wanted to ask, and knew her own self doubt stopped the glowing thought, now only a small, distant flicker. 

It pained Nick. They’d had this discussion formally: _It’s not gonna happen just cause it can’t, but if I ever did get pregnant… would you stay?_

He’d assured her that even if they fell apart, nothing would make him skip out on his own child, however her obvious anxiousness when she’d try to brush the conversation off was palpable. Even if children weren’t an option now, who was he to say it wouldn’t be something he wanted later down the line? And that was what he thought agitated her the most. Others had the option where hers was already determined. 

“Lines movin’.” he mumbled, trailing behind as she changed the subject. 

_Don’t be sad_ , he lamented inwardly. _Please keep smiling._

↠

 

“Nick- _ahh_ ,” she sobbed breathlessly, rearing her ass as high as she could against his hand, desperate for his slow ministrations to rapid fire into her. But Nick was good at this. 

Keeping her suspended, and just before the crest of an orgasm she knew would be blinding. 

He smiled, his palm cupping her cheeks with the tips of his middle fingers rubbing tight circles just inside her entrance, sometimes dipping in swiftly to make her cry out, causing her back to arch deliciously. He favored massaging her clit, to listen to her purr Spanish words, begging him to go faster, or harder, _to just fuck her already_. 

As soon as they’d made it to her apartment, he’d had her legs wrapped around him and tossed onto her bed, stripping her with slow intent. When she was upset, Callie didn’t just bummer out. Anxiety gave her different eyes to see with. Eyes that made her see flaws where he only saw beauty, in both mind and body. It also gave her rampant thoughts that mauled from the ground up, delving their claws into her skin, a constant reminder of what she struggled to suppress or understand. Nick would remind her of the ecstatic beauty she emitted, worshipping her body and kissing words of admiration onto her lips, drawing her from the dark hole she sometimes crawled into. 

_Callie can be a mess_. 

Sure, but she was his mess now. 

“Nick please,” she whined, burying her face in the sheets, shoving her ass back against his hips. He groaned when his severely rigid dick grazed her cheeks, and she flipped her hair to look back at him, pushing up on her hands. 

“Put it in,” she moaned, craning her neck when his chest pressed against her back, kissing her shoulder. His hand dragged around her thigh, up her sides to her hanging breasts that fit perfectly in his palm. 

“Cógeme duro,” she snarled as he did, smiling when she felt his hips roll back, then forward. 

They moaned in unison when the head of his engorged cock pushed into her quivering pussy. His head dropped; this was always his favorite part. The first slide in, where nothing felt as hot as her body, and the heightened spice of her arousal was strongest. 

“Lat're fuckaumn perfecav,” he kissed against her shoulder blade, fucking her with deep, deliberate thrusts. 

He touched across her body; sliding his palms over her nipples, tracing the intricate designs down her sides, running his fingers along her scalp and sometimes fisting her hair to pull her head back, eliciting a sharp cry followed by a wide smile. When she’d sit up to press her back to his body, he held her face, in awe at the energy she gave off when they were like this. Sweating, bared vulnerability, and chanting words of admiration. 

He leaned back to turn her towards him, a brief kiss upon her gasping mouth before pulling her thighs out from under her so she fell back against the mattress. Called _oofed_ , but spread and brought her knees in when he dipped his hips to bury himself in her again, pressing tight enough against her to push her up. 

Callie cried out with every impact of him, teasing the points inside her that thrilled from the slightest touch. She pressed her cheek against his, gripping his arms above her shoulders, and smiled weakly when he started stumbling around his words, his thrusts increasing in severity. She silenced her own whimper when he dug his fingers into her hip, gouging a tender bruise.

“You’re close,” She knew it, she always did. If she was on top, she would lean on his chest and bounce instead of grind. Now, she planted her feet and lifted her hips into his, creating an ideal angle. 

“Oh Cal,” he wavered, his eyes rolling back before he sat up to stabilize her raised hips, bucking wildly into her.

She smiled. “Oh baby,” she whimpered, her brows furrowing and her jaw starting to slacken. “Oh I’m gonna cum,” she cried, holding onto his hands upon her hips. The harsh, concentrated thrusts were the ones to get her there, and she was arching higher off the bed, a visible flush bursting across her chest as she finally came, chanting his name loudly, roughly, breathlessly. 

Nick exhaled harshly, his head hanging back as she narrowed around him. “Say it,” he blistered, looking back down at her breasts that bounced with every impact. 

“Cum in me,” she breathed, moving onto her hands so she was spread over his lap. “Cum in me, baby,” She hung onto the back of his neck, snapping her pelvis in rhythm with his.

He gripped her hips with such ferocity she hissed, but his grasp eased when he slowed considerably, thrusting slowly, and deeply as his dick pulsed inside of her. He purged himself against her womb, groaning until he gradually lowered her hips, watching where he slowly slipped out of her. He caught himself from falling, and she laughed when he finally fell limp against her, apologizing with his face in the sheets after they’d fallen back. 

_Ugh_ , they’d need a shower before sleeping; waking up sticky from sex sweat was the equivalent to feeling like a giant scab. Callie blew some hair from her face, bumping his head. 

“I need to get up,” she sighed. Nick groaned, turning to kiss her before sitting up again. She rolled to the edge of her bed and tossed the small pack of wipes onto his stomach after he’d fallen back onto the creaking mattress, then scurried to the bathroom.

Nick cleaned himself with the cold wipes, and stretched across her small bed, his sprawled arms hanging off the edge and his feet against the wall.

“I feel like a twinkie,” Callie called. He scoffed. 

“That much?” he called back. He watched the hallway when he heard the toilet flush and faucet run. 

“Enough to knock up three of me.” she said after coming back, pulling her panties off the floor and up her legs before sashaying across the bed. Callie planted a few lazy kisses on his lips before laying her head on his chest, and hummed in satisfaction when he dragged his fingers up and down her arm, the ends of her hair around her shoulders tickling her skin where he moved it around. 

The world was pure in moments like this. It was easy to forget the harassment of a day or the low spirits that often followed him home when he had her warm body beside his own, humming the soft tune of a song she’d had stuck in her head for days. Something about being afraid of thunderclouds; it was a damn catchy song. 

“I have the munchies,” she mumbled, her cheek squished and her knee sliding up his thigh. 

Her head craned back when he didn’t answer, and she found him staring up at the ceiling, his tongue running over his clipped tusks. _Uh oh_. 

She sat up on her elbow. “Whats’a matter?”

He looked at her like he was still stuck in his thoughts until she patted his chest. ”Hm?”

“What’s _wrong_?” she asked again. With a shake of his head, he moved a hand under his skull, his eyes training on the ceiling again, saying “Barbeque,”

“What of it?” She rested her chin on her hand over his chest.

“Reluctant to go the more I think about it. People at work have talked shit about you before,”

Her brows perked up. “And?”

“I don’t _want_ them to,”

“So what if they do?”

“They have no right to,” he bit back. 

“But they will. Don’t fret over what you can’t control, baby,”

He snorted. “Wouldn’t even be an issue if I was huma-”

She clapped her hand over his mouth, sliding up to look at his surprised eyes. “Don’t even finish that,” she demanded, and held steadfast when he tried to speak. 

“I don’t want you to be human. I think you’ve spent a lot of your life trying to be so everyone else will accept you, but you’ve lost sight of what you are. You’re what humans lack,” she paused, moving her hand away to trail it across his face, her fingers tracing the hard lines of his brows. “But you’re you because you’re Orc, not a wannabe human, Nick,” 

The side of his fingertip traced her chin while he thought over what she said. 

“You wouldn’t like me if I was human?” 

“I don’t think so,”

His brow cocked. “Not even a little?”

“If you were human do you think you would’ve had the same upbringing or past? Even in the slightest bit?” she questioned. It only took a second to realize he wouldn’t have. “You would’ve been a completely different person, and I can’t imagine being with anyone else that’s not exactly you,” 

_Fuck I love you, girl._

Callie giggled when he maneuvered downwards and pushed her back, resting his head on her chest with strong arms around her. 

“You’re like a big cat,” she smiled, rubbing his back. On cue, the soft, low chuffing that vibrated through his chest started. The first time Nick had ‘purred’, Callie was speechless, lying still with his head in her lap and biting back a wide smile as she listened, in somewhat disbelief the rumors that Orcs ‘purred’ was actually true. 

“Happy Orc noises.” Callie squeaked, rolling on her side to wrap around him. 

_Very, very happy_.

* * *

This shade was too light. She wanted something that threatened. No nudes today; if someone approached her with ill intent, she wanted them to know she could bite back harder, but this one just wasn’t doing it. 

“Kat Von D failed me,” Callie sighed, capping the lipstick. 

“That’s what you get for leaving Jeffree Star,” Patricia chimed in, the fanned brush ghosting over her cheeks to apply the highlighter. 

“I didn’t _leave_ , I thought she’d have something meaner,” Callie grumbled, browsing the selection of Star lipsticks. 

“Try Weirdo,” Rosie pointed after applying the solid black liner to her lips. Callie scoffed. 

“I said menacing, not gothic,”

“It would make a statement,” Patricia said through the corner of her mouth. 

“What about Anna Nichole?” Callie asked, swatching it on her inner forearm. 

“That’s for performances under those damn lights,” Rosie instructed. “Here- Redrum.”

The sisters watched as Callie applied the liquid lipstick, popping her mouth a few times. The deep red sat beautifully beside her skin, and with the right outfit and eyeliner, she’d be the whore everyone branded her as. Just what she wanted. 

“Jeffree Star is a fucking genius,” Callie hissed, grabbing a new vial of the shade. 

“Why again are you going to this thing if everyone there are assholes?” Patricia asked. Rosie rolled her eyes; always the one to fret. 

“Cause he asked me to go somewhere he’s hated even more,” Callie replied, browsing a few more items amongst the shelves before walking towards the front counter. 

“But are you actually okay with going?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t I be?”

She grabbed Callie’s hand. “Really? Cause your fingertips look like raw hamburger,” 

Callie jerked her hand away, hiding her nibbled fingertips. “That’s just habit,” she mumbled. 

“Then why is _he_ even going?” Patricia gripped.

“Cause Daryl invited him!”

“Okay but if you said he gets all defensive and mean-”

“I said _protective_ and _angry_ ,”

“Then what do you think is gonna happen at a barbeque with a bunch of assholes talking shit? Huh? He gonna let it go like you’ve been telling him to?”

“I knew I’d regret telling you that…” Callie mumbled, pulling her wallet from her bag. Rosie elbowed her arm gently. 

“What if hands start flying and it’s cause you wanted to prove a point?” Patricia continued, facing her in line as she waited for her transaction to finish. 

Callie glared. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t brush of what you’ve told me causes fights between you two. Use your head, not what’s between your legs, Calista.” Patricia finished, stepping away as to not crowd the tightly packed lines in the store. Callie looked back at Rosie who shrugged. 

“She’s just paranoid,” Rosie assured. 

“Just cause she thinks every guy is like Michael doesn’t give her a right to lash out like that,” Callie snapped, grabbing her items and stomping away. 

“You’re still gonna do it so why let it bother you?”

“Cause I don’t like being questioned once I’ve made up my mind, damnit,” Callie grumbled, looking at her phone. 

A Snap from Nick, sitting in his backyard with his feet propped up in the shade after just getting home from running a hiking trail, captioned, _‘lets just stay home and sleep’_.

Callie giggled. “C’mere,” she told Rosie, who knew to pose beside her when the phone rose above them. 

“Oh god that’s awful,” Rosie groaned, but Callie captioned it, _‘i just bought new lipstick!!!’_

“Okay I gotta get one more thing and then I’m done,” Callie instructed, walking off in a different direction from where Patricia was seated, waiting. Rosie shrugged again when Patricia raised her hands in question, following Callie to the next store. 

The two walked in silence; Rosie checking in with her husband and Callie scoping out the store she was in search of. 

“Y’know Trish has a point,” Rosie dared, keeping her eyes on her phone to avoid Callie’s cold glare. “You shouldn’t brush it off if it’s important.”

“I’m not.” she retorted. 

_I’m not._

↠

The more time wound down closer to the barbeque, the more Nick really just wanted to stay home. It could be a mistake taking Callie into the center of a cruel group like the people he worked with, but she wouldn’t let him back out of this. Something about not showing up was showing weakness, which he could really care less about, but a minute, vainglory fraction of himself wanted to show her off properly. 

He’d kept them away to shield her from their callous words, but if they were going to lash out even when she wasn’t in their presence, why not let her be there to defend herself? His protectiveness was too explosive, but her witty comebacks usually silenced the better portion of lingering eyes and hateful comments. His girl could definitely square up, so might as well start letting her. 

He ascended the stairs with his eyes on his phone, reading over the text Ward had sent in request to bring their own booze. He considered taking something Orkish just to piss everyone off. 

Nick wiggled the doorknob, and groaned when the door opened. _She’s gonna get herself murdered one of these days_.

“Lock your door, Cal,” he said aloud, stepping inside her dark apartment. 

“I kept it open for you!”

“I’d rather wait outside than have an invader come and stab you to death,” he mumbled, grabbing the open beer on her kitchen counter before wandering into her living room. Still cold, and helped calm his rattling nerves. “We have to go get a bottle of something to take,”

“I have tequila on top of the fridge? Shits expensive,”

He moved back to scope it out, reaching up to grab it. Mostly full; this would do. “Sure you wanna share it?” he asked, setting it on the countertop and taking another sip from the Modelo. 

“It’s been sitting there for weeks so might as well,” He heard her faucet turn off, and caught the sight of her leaving the bathroom. “I’m ready,” she said. 

Nick had rounded the corner of her kitchen entrance, and swallowed. That blood red lipstick only added to the fullness of her lips, and her wavy tresses shadowing her big eyes made her look dangerous, but maybe more like a siren with the way that high-cut, black shirt hugged her toned body. And those fucking jeans- the same ones she’d worn the night he first kissed her. 

He grinned, moving her hair away to reveal the off the shoulder cut of the shirt and the ‘Lover’ tattoo he rarely saw on her other shoulder.

“I don’t know if I can take you now looking like that,” he growled, his hand trailing down her side. 

“I was gonna say the same thing about you lookin’ tall dark and handsome like that,” she cooed, standing on her toes to kiss him with her hands on his hips. He held her face, exhaling, temptation to pick her up and undress her edging up his body.

“Thanks I wanted to wear lipstick too,” he said against her mouth. She chuckled, but when she tried to pull away, he brought her back.

“ _Nick_ ,” she pleaded, her resolve already collapsing. “We don’t have time!”

“A quickie,” he grumbled, his thumbs hooking the belt loops and tugging down. 

She snorted, and could feel his erection against her lower stomach. “No such thing as a quickie with you,” she moaned, her arms wrapping around his neck when he pulled up from under her ass. 

 

She pulled her tight crop top up over her breasts again as he buckled his black jeans and belt, but his shirt was still lost amongst the items that had been pushed off her table. 

“I can’t find my sandal,” she said as she wandered around. 

“Couldn’t’ve flown too far,”

“With my feet up in the air like that it could. Aha!” she announced, finding it on the surface of the bar before her kitchen just as Nick located his black shirt beside her couch. 

“Ready to go?” he asked, his body loose in comparison to ten minutes ago. 

“Hold on I have something for you,”

From her purse on the floor she pulled out a small case, and he looked at her with apprehensive eyes when he spotted the golden Ray Ban logo on its face. 

“Callie,” he exhaled, but she only smiled. 

He opened the case, marveling with wide eyes at the brand new Clubmasters. The silver lining of the frames glimmered under what little light there was coming in, and she had even known to choose the darkest lenses without him ever mentioning those were the ones he preferred. 

He looked at her beaming smile, waiting patiently for his response. “These are so expensive,” was what he could only groan, unfolding them. 

“Oh hush, seeing you in them will make up for it so _please_ throw out those awful cop ones that do that beautiful face of yours no justice.” she pleaded, holding his arms as he ogled the shades. He caught her chin before she stepped away, placing a long, loving kiss upon her lips and a soft thank you against her cheek. 

After trying them on, even he had to admit he felt pretty cool.

Up until they made it to Ward’s home, Nick had been sure of himself, but parking across the street and finding a small group of officers he knew standing in the driveway beside Daryl’s home brought the unease. They recognized him just as quickly, and Nick could almost feel their animosity from across the way.

Callie snaked her hand into his, bringing his attention to her. 

“I’m with you, baby,” she grinned. His dithering heart calmed, and he nodded, stepping from the truck and rounding the front to open Callie’s door. Her grip was unyielding when he held her hand to cross the road, but hoped the dark shades of the Ray Bans hid his rapid blinking. 

He fought to not turn his head or fidget when they passed the first group of men that rubbernecked towards Callie, who in turn on flashed a killer grin. She hushed him softly when he pulled her closer. Rounding the house, the wide backyard was already littered with people wandering about or standing amongst conversation, the smoke from the barbeque pit billowing into the air. 

In succession, heads turned, eyes double taking when they first spotted Jakoby and motioned to protest, but then eyed Callie beside him. 

“This place has got a lot of salt but not too much pepper,” Callie mumbled. Nick snorted. 

“Boy who you trynna show up with them shades?” Ward’s voice called over the low commotion. 

“Hey, Ward,” Nick said, giving him the handshake; the one he would never admit practicing to not only avoid embarrassment on his part, but also Daryl’s. 

“Handsome, ain’t he?” Called asked, her words causing a small dusting of blush across Nick’s cheeks. 

“Yes, very cute. Callie, it's been a minute girl,” Ward replied, stepping forward for a quick hug. 

“Yeah he finally took me out of hiding,”

“There’s no hiding,” Nick corrected. 

“Uh-huh. Listen we got burgers, hot dogs, beer and some liquor and a whole mess of snacks so help yourselves,” Ward pointed to the tables lined with food. 

“And tequila,”

“Hey there’s a nice change of pace, everyone’s wife or woman has been bringing fuckin’ Keystone or wine-”

“Baby we’re out of IPA’s,” Sherri came up, seemingly out of nowhere. Nick didn’t have to see that Callie had stood taller, her chin lowering in a soft glare, to know her guard had gone up just at the sight of Ward’s wife’s mock smile. 

“Sher you remember Nick, this is his girl Callie,” Ward introduced, but neither woman reached forward to shake hands, the space between them thick with distaste. 

“You’re the one Daryl says has him distracted all the time?” Sherri asked, a pleased smirk pulling the corner of her mouth. Nick looked at Ward who only shrugged, admittedly caught. 

“Yeah she has that effect,” Nick said softly. “So do you,” Callie replied, her hand moving to hold around his arm. He side eyed her with a little grin. 

“Careful Jakoby, wouldn’t wanna get too distracted again,”

Callie’s smile dissolved.

“ _Nick_ ,” Callie corrected. “His name is Nick,”

“Cal-” the Orc hissed.

“I’ll call him whatever I want,”

“Sherri,” Daryl held her arm.

“Pinche perra-” Callie moved forward, but Nick’s arm around her was faster. 

“Okay let’s go get some food,” Nick said, pulling his reluctant girlfriend away while mouthing _what the fuck_ to Daryl, who was fighting to get a word in over Sherri’s beratement. 

“That fast, huh?” Nick said close to her, moving around people as they made their way to the liquor table. 

Callie grabbed a cold Modelo from the cooler and clipped the cap off against the edge of the table, doing the same for another bottle before handing it to Nick. 

“Bitch is heartless,” she said before drinking. 

“She’s never liked me very much,”

“Can’t imagine anyone liking her,” Callie said lowly, scanning, observing the plain, alike faces of most of the fellow officers there. She couldn’t say for sure just how they acted around Nick, but the ones who sneered in his direction or the women who had about the same individuality as an Instagram model attached at their sides who gave the up and down to Callie were to be avoided. 

“Same as everyone else, for that matter,” she said into her bottle, glaring when a set of eyes lingered for too long. 

“Wanna leave?” he asked, leaned back against a beam of the gazebo covering the table. She snorted. 

“Hell no, but if she opens her mouth again with some innapropriate shit I might put her in a headlock,” Callie told him. 

“On the day I didn’t bring my handcuffs?”

“Oh, you should always carry them with you, officer. Y’never know when we’re gonna get a little freaky.” she purred, standing close, her incandescent eyes keeping him locked on. His mouth ran dry. 

“You’d let me use the cuffs?” he asked under his breath, leaning closer. She laughed, unapologetically loud and wiggling her body under his arm to hug him. 

Callie wasn’t afraid to be left on her own during the sparse times Nick chatted with the kinder few, or when he left to retrieve more beer and chat with Daryl. She had a way of bringing down the walls of people and enchanting them with good conversation, and Nick had even felt a little twinge of jealousy the way she could get some of the colder individuals laughing. 

_That’s my girl_ , he’d blister. But she always came back to his side, an arm around his waist and her personal, crooked grin warming his heart. And she wouldn’t stop harassing him until he’d smile, or laugh, despite the critical care he took to show as little emotion as possible around everyone. Sometimes she spoke softly, when anger tapped his shoulder after Nick would catch stares that were neither cruel or judging, but desirous. 

It in all honesty didn’t surprise him that some of the men couldn’t help gawk once they realized what a bombshell Callie was, but their curiosity was tempting a swift kick to the balls if they kept at it much longer.

Nick shifted and grunted beside her, crossing his ankle over his knee. She followed his shaded eyes to two younger individuals, occasionally looking at the couple where they sat at a table. She studied, refusing to avert her eyes when they looked at her warily. One was tall and burly, clearly a man that took the time to maintain the muscle he adorned, but the other was thin, with dated and groomed hair, and bland clothing. 

“Is that him?” she asked, biting into her burger, but she scowled. “Oh my _gaw_ \- that’s dry,” 

Nick snorted, nodded, and sipped his beer, but his hairless brows furrowed watching her in turn watching Gerrald and Pikips. Her slower, calculated movements accompanied by her legs uncrossing told him she was fixing to make a move. Something she’d often done to him when his moods swung this way or that, and Callie always dug up what she went in search for. 

“You lookin’ to get yourself in some trouble?” he said lowly. She put her plate down and turned to him. 

“Gimmee a kiss,” she said, and he did so, even though it lacked any real movement. “What’re you doing- Cal? _Callie_ ,” he called after she’d stood. Should he follow? _Probably_ , but he was more curious to see what she was planning on doing first. He still set his bottle down in case he had to bolt. 

“Excuse me,” Callie gently interrupted, a light hand on Gerralds arm to pull him from his conversation. “I’m Callie, nice to meet you,” she grinned, extending a hand. Nick’s expression was just as perplexed as Gerralds as he nervously shook her hand, his eyes shooting to the Orcs, but Callie caught the jump in his eyes, gliding up and down his body like greedy hands.

“Enjoying the afternoon?” she asked, crossing her arms. 

He scoffed, but nodded. “Yeah I guess,”

“Yeah? Having a good time seein’ your guys outside of work and stuff?” 

Hesitantly, he nodded, the other man eyeing her as she continued. 

“Great, that’s great. So why the _fuck_ do you feel you have to put in the extra effort to stare and talk shit about me and my man when we’re all here, enjoying the afternoon?” she smiled, tilting her head a bit. His flashy smile dissipated, and he leaned away. 

“What?”

Nick had seen the immediate shift, so he sat straight. 

“I said,” Callie took half a step closer. “What do you care about an Orc and his whore if you’re so much better?” 

She’d gotten what she wanted. To bring down the mask the prick wore while he showboated to his friends, and to see what Nick had witnessed and told her about. She’d struck the nerve that fired the bigoted rage at anything or anyone what wasn’t human, and now it was glaring down at her. 

“You two are fucking disgusting,” he spat.

“Really? Cause a minute ago you couldn’t keep your eyes off my tits and before that,” she pointed towards Nick, who was growing impatient. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off my ass when I was talking to one of your buddies!” she grinned.

“The hell you say,”

“Oh no, you see the thing about us whores is we can figure out white boys like you easier than we can pluck our brows and _I_ think you can’t stand that the Orc you hate has a girl you keep tellin’ yourself you can’t want, even though you know white bread ain't _nearly_ as good as wheat,” she riddled out, her smile gone, and her eyes cutting. 

His eyes flashed to Nick who was standing now. 

“You keep your eyes away from my man and on that ring on your finger everytime you feel a little anger poking at your thin skin,” she finished. Callie didn’t pull her glare away until he did, and uncrossed her arms as she made her way back to Nick. 

“What did you do?” he asked, his arm tight around her shoulders as he watched Gerrald return to Pikips, their smiles now hushed mumbles and his eyes jumping to see if anyone had caught anything. 

“Picked him apart a little,” she said, her chin against his chest. 

“That doesn’t make me feel any better…”

“All bark and no bite. He couldn’t even defend himself when I called him out on his racism,” she told him, rubbing his side. 

“Well I already knew that,” he scoffed, finally looking at her illustrious smirk. “Proud of yourself, aren’t you?” 

“Hell yeah. No one fucks with my guy,” she spoke softer, patting his chest. He sighed, his lips in a straight line. 

“There’s people watching us,” he mumbled, but she giggled. 

“So gimmee another kiss,”

_Aw, fuck it_. 

He even closed his eyes when he kissed her, the thumb upon the hand of the arm behind her head stroking her cheek. 

“Otro,” she’d say after every smooch, his hand eventually covering her face playfully when she demanded too many. 

Maybe one or two had heard whatever Callie had cracked at Gerrald, and maybe it spread silently amongst the party-goers, but not many more comments were directed at them, after that, nor were there many more unkind glances. Perhaps Callie had staked her claim loudly enough, or maybe they just grew tired of trying to squash the crossover couple with their looks alone. Either way, the evening went on pleasantly, to Nick’s surprise. 

Sherri hadn’t been shy in the slightest when sending glares whose power challenged that of lightning towards Callie, but making Ward laugh was better than any face she could‘ve sent right back to her. 

It was when the suns residual light was filling the sky that they decided to leave, saying their goodbyes to Ward who insisted they stayed, but Callie fibbed that she’d been called into work, when in reality, the two just wanted to go back home and lay around. 

But before that, _food_. 

“Who made those burgers?” Callie slurred, her cheek full of a hearty bite of California burrito. 

“Your favorite person at the barbeque,” Nick responded, stabbing his enchiladas with his fork. She rolled her eyes, pouring the salsa from the little cup onto her next bite. 

“At least the beer was cold,” she grinned, and he did in return. Nick barely fit at the small, plastic two person table beside the food truck, but he’d made enough room on his lap so she could rest her feet there so her sandals didn’t submerge in the puddle beneath her. 

“Next time we can do the cooking,” she paused to sip her drink. “Except with carne and some pollo,”

“In your tiny little place?” he teased. 

“In your big ass backyard, dummy,”

“I don’t think most of them would come,”

“Then bring the ones who’re worth it,” she smiled. “Oh jeeze- by the way? That dude with the bad haircut, and the preppy clothes?”

“Gerrald?”

She pointed and nodded. “Dude has a thing for me.”

It registered, but didn’t process until he repeated it in his own head a few times, and even then he still barked, “What?”

“He does. Probably for Hispanic girls in general,” she explained, still eating. Nick was puzzled, and a little pissed. Seeing him glare at her was one thing but to think it was cause he… _ugh_ , it made his stomach churn. 

“How’d’you know?”

“I used to encounter men of that kind _all_ the time at my old job. Proper pricks that liked the more ‘exotic’ woman on the side in comparison to the neat little wives they had at home.” 

Nick blinked. There was something… _odd_ , about the way she explained that. But she seemed nonchalant, picking a french fry from his plate. 

“Calista,” he intoned. 

Her eyes shot to his, and her brows furrowed. She hadn’t heard him use her full name since they’d first met. 

“Were you a prostitute?”

Callie snorted, then laughed, but he didn’t think it was very funny despite the half grin he gave. 

“I’m serious,” he said quieter, leaning against his elbows on the tables surface. She was still giggling, but soon set her half eaten burrito down and also leaned forward, pushing her hair behind her ears. 

“No, baby, I wasn’t a prostitute,” she said definitely, and her jaw dropped when he exhaled hard. 

“Did you actually think I was?”

“No not really but the way you lead up to that was kind terrifying,” he confessed, his shoulders brought in. 

“No, no I wasn’t,” she paused, leaning back again, but her foot started to wiggle in his lap. He was sure if she could bounce her knee, it’d be going like it had its own motor. “But I did strip for a while.”

He stopped her foot, and looked at her sympathetically. Her lips were pursed to the side, biting her inner lip. 

“How long?” he asked. 

“About 3 years, give or take a couple months,” she responded.

“Why’d you stop?”

She half grinned. “Got stabbed in the parking lot by an angry dwarf,”

“ _What?_ ”

“It was a car key, and it was in the back, only a couple stitches but that did it,”

“Is that what that little dimple is?” he asked, having recalled it was in a damn near perfect spot to put his thumb over when he was-

“Think it was a handle for when you’re blowing out my back?” she mocked. He grinned sheepishly, squeezing her foot. 

“Why did you start?” he asked then, and she opened her mouth to answer, but the growing pool of people around them stopped her. 

“Can we go back to the truck?”

 

He pulled the gate down and held out his hand as leverage so she could jump up, and handed her the last of her wrapped burrito she absent mindedly cradled like a baby. Being next to the water, a steady roll of breezes kept them cool in the humid night, but he had an arm ready if she chilled. 

“I started cause of my ex,” she said outright, and he turned her way a little. 

“And that’s also kind of another… big part of this story, cause when I was 19 I was engaged,” she sighed, pulling at the string from her torn jeans. That hit him hard, and made him some kind of uncomfortable he couldn’t pin down as angry so much, but he remained silent. 

“I know now it was nothing close to what being in love actually is, but I still said yes when he got down on one knee cause I was convinced that 2 months was long enough to know a person inside and out,” she scolded herself, her hand smacking against her thigh. 

“You dummy,” he mumbled. She pushed him. 

“So that ended about 2 weeks later when he disappeared with all my savings I’d built up since I was 15, never to be seen again, and we never were able to get ahold of it cause the dumb prick was smart enough to use cash after emptying the account,”

“Are you serious? How much?” Nick was appalled, wondering if someone like that had any history at the station. 

“Mm, little over 9,000?”

He exhaled; _that_ was a fucking blow. 

“So, I got a job that I knew was lucrative, to say the least, and worked until I had triple of what I lost, and let me tell you,” she finished the last of her drink. “Has it been quite the buffer,”

“Changed a lot of jobs in between?” he assumed, leaning back on his hands. 

Callie shook her head. “It paid for the caskets of Rosie’s dead kids a year after I quit stripping,”

For a drawn moment, he didn’t know what to say, or what to ask next. Looking at Rosie, and knowing she had two kids, he wouldn’t even think that she had had two kids previously; two that were apparently dead. 

“She used to live in New York. She met her ex husband who no one really liked but started a family anyways, and when the kids were supposed to be under his care, they wandered outside, into the street and were hit by a car and died,” she told him dismally. “Rosie was just fifty feet away in a store, but he couldn’t even pull his eyes away from his phone long enough to watch after his own fucking kids,” 

Nick scooted closer, seeing the strain upon her face. “They were so small,” she choked, clearing her throat. He kissed her temple, an arm holding securely around her side when a lonesome tear dropped onto her lap, but the rest were wiped away hastily. 

“That’s what those are, huh?” he asked, turning her wrist. Nick had often pondered over what the names on her inner wrists were, but always had the notion it was a memory too painful to casually bring up as names are often associated with children or lost loves, and Callie had no young ones. 

Callie nodded. “Benecio and Stella. I met them when they were born, and then again in caskets,” 

“Fuck,” he swore. 

“She left everything behind and moved back, and eventually met Daryl,” she sighed, the light at the end of a dark era bringing her back to the surface. But when Callie scoffed, he looked at her, puzzled. 

“Y’know I paid for their coffins but some of my family still _love_ to ring me about ever having stripped, or never finishing school, or the guys I dated. Like it was **my** fault they treated me like shit. They treat me like I was giving blowjobs on dark corners,” she snapped. Those emotions came bubbling to the surface, rolling like boiling water everytime these memories were rekindled. 

“Like who?” 

“Sometimes Patricia, mostly my aunts and cousins. Sorry, that’s irrelevant. So now you know I used to strip,” she bumped her shoulder against his side; he wouldn’t try to crack open that door she so clearly wanted left closed. So he held her against him, gradually sensing the anguish leave her system the longer he rubbed her cool arm. Her small frame melted against his, her head rested back against his bicep. 

_Callie can be a mess_. 

Callie wasn’t a mess, he was realizing. She was the outcome of one. 

“Are you the black sheep?” he asked carefully. 

“I am the black sheep,” she sighed, her face angling down to hide against is chest. That confession was saturated in a tired sadness he’d never heard from her. It was an old, lasting heartache that probably caused the nervous bouncing of her legs, and the chewed tips of her fingers, and probably the times she wanted to stay hidden away at home. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t make a sparkling first impression-”

“Nope. Don’t start. You were exactly who you are so if they don’t like it they can just continue to fuck off,” he said sternly, his amber eyes keeping hers. 

“But it matters if you care about what they think,”

“I don’t care what they think. Even if thirty of them came up and told me how much they hated you it wouldn’t stop any of the love I have for you,” he confessed softly, the strength of his gaze unfaltering when she remained stoic. 

But then Callie tilted her head, her big, almond eyes searching for promise in his words. 

“You love me?” Her voice was so vulnerable. His girl that fought with fire in her gut and the strength of a hundred men was suddenly so small under his touch, and Nick was sure this was the truth she kept locked away. 

He leaned in to kiss her lips softly. “I _love_ you,” 

Her smile reminded him of a breath that had been held for too long in suspense; one that resembled the end of a period that was filled with uncertainty. Had she been so worried? 

“I love you,” she told him, resting her forehead against his. He grinned, and wouldn’t tell her he almost thought she wasn’t going to say it in return. He could’ve done with declaring this a while ago, but until today, though he was sure there were no ill intentions in her, he wasn’t entirely certain if she was in this relationship for duration, or fun. 

There was no question in his mind where her heart was now. Not when she clung to him so securely, pressing her face under his jaw and uttering the words again. 

“I love you, Nick.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧I couldn't NOT draw Nick in his clubmasters with his Callie gurrrrl✧ﾟ・: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)  
> HERE SPREADING ALL THE LOOOOOVE LET ME SHOWER EVERYONE WITH IT BEFORE THINGS GET dark. 
> 
> Translations!  
> -Jiak'll nauk-membas lat: "I'll remember you."  
> -Cógeme duro: "Fuck me hard."  
> -Lat're fuckaumn perfecav: "You're fucking perfect."  
> -Pinche perra: "Fucking bitch-"  
> -Otro: "Another one."
> 
> I just realized how many 'fucks/fuckings' are in those translations please excuse me, i was found under a rock when I was a child i've never known how to NOT curse ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	7. Momentum

Whether it was a walk during the night through his neighborhood that slumbered by 10, or stretched under the sun along the sand after she’d finally convinced him to come to the beach, or stopping at one of their favorite food trucks in the AM hours when neither could sleep, the two were inseparable. There was no set routine of which day they could see one another, or set days that were best in those three months. 

It was, _are you free? Yeah, let’s go_. 

It was sitting in his truck for a few minutes, rarely more than 10, while she finished work, and they’d go from there. It was peppering her face with kisses until she awoke, lost in the blankets of his bed when he was called in abruptly, and leaving bus fair so she could wake up and eat something at his place before leaving. 

It was popping up at the station before lunch with food so he didn’t have to keep buying take-out, and sometimes bringing snacks to distribute amongst the fellow officers who were kind, always extra for Ward. 

It was sitting in the shadows of the large studio, his hood pulled over his ears, smiling, as he watched his otherworldly girl smile and laugh, spinning and stepping effortlessly with Rosie, and always being the first to stand and clap after a performance. 

It was the way she’d sit silently beside him after his day was absolute shit, and wait for the rampant anger to calm before crawling under her touch. 

It was the way he held onto her during a panic attack, finding her curled in bed, his calls and messages having gone unanswered. That was when he gave her a key to his home and told her if she ever felt alone or scared, she could go and be where she knew he’d eventually come home to. 

It was how he’d still kiss her cheek after a fight and they needed space.

It was how he knew to bring one of his pullovers and a pair of earbuds anytime she was in the ER for another cyst, never a word of discomfort or protest from him during the hours he sat beside her gurney. He even remembered what feminine products she prefered when they’d stop at a store on the way home, and would sneak in small gifts to cheer her up. She liked the color of nail polishes he chose; often something dark and warm. 

It was when she’d take his hands, her dreamy eyes leading him, her soft voice coaxing him, until he was over her, and bowing under his touch.

It was the way he’d caress her sides, and hold her face when she moved over him, whispering how much she loved him before kissing him, the way her body spoke saying more than words could ever convey.

It was how she laughed when he stepped on her toes, after she finally convinced him to learn a few steps. His bigger kitchen was ideal, and eventually they’d amble in rhythm, her head against his chest and arms steadfast around his waist as Aerosmith lulled through the speakers of the small radio. 

It was how he never grew tired of that loud laugh, even during the few times they visited a high-end restaurant only to end up at a 7/11 later in the night, sitting in his truck as they talked and sipped slurpees. 

It was the way she gave him a confidence he’d never felt before. When he’d tag along to her friends late night kickbacks, side by side in the cold nights but a colder beer in their hands, he didn’t shy away from photos anymore. When she’d curl around him, he could smirk without feeling like it took all the energy from him. 

But not all the good entirely made up for the bad. 

The bad that was his explosive temper, when strangers would inevitably comment on their relationship. It brought forth a rage that only grew, and became impossible to control. Callie before would have managed to pull him away or distract Nick, but now? He bellowed, growled, sometimes charged and would pull her away, often ending whatever plans they made and were now ruined.

He didn’t understand why she didn’t see how bad it could get if he didn’t end the harassment, but she didn’t see why he couldn’t ignore it. 

The one thing neither could see eye-to-eye on.

* * *

It seemed she leaned as far as possible from him, even crossing her knees when he made a move to hold her knee. None of his apologies did anything to lessen her fury, but he hadn’t expected anything to help after all of that. He stopped promising he’d never snap again, because he broke it every time, but that really didn’t help. The way she saw it, he could fire off at anything, meaning she had to rethink taking him certain places, limiting what they already had time for. 

“Do you need to pick up clothes?” he asked, turning into her parking spot. 

“No,” she was gathering her bag. 

He looked at her. “You’re not gonna stay over anymore?”

“No.” 

“Can we at least talk about it?”

But she slammed the car door, and he exhaled, watching her fly up the steps and angrily yank her door open before entering her apartment. He was compelled to follow her up, and get this out of the way, but thought better to give her space. He didn’t want to send her into a panic. 

He drove home in silence; music would be only an irritant. 

↠

“This Saturday? Why such late notice?” Called asked, her phone pinned between her cheek and shoulder as she collected her hanging towels from her balcony. 

“Patricia didn’t know if she would have the money for the party,” her mother answered, probably going about her own cleaning that night. 

“Okay pues,” Callie paused, nibbling her lip. “Hey Ma?”

“Are you going to bring your boyfriend?” she asked first. Callie’s movements stuttered some, but she rolled her eyes once realization dawned on her. 

“Rosie?”

“Who else?” 

“She needs to keep her big mouth shut,” Callie grumbled, falling back into her couch. She still wore jeans and Nick’s LAPD long sleeve, having not bothered to change once coming home and angry cleaning everything. 

“How long have you known him?” her mother asked. 

Callie blew air from her cheeks. “Like… six-ish months?” she realized; _had so much time gone by since first meeting him?_

“Calista, why didn’t you _tell_ us?”

“Cause the rest of the family can’t keep their shitty opinions to themselves…”

“Mija you know we don’t care if he’s an Orc, right?”

She covered her face with her hand. “I _just_ said-”

“And I’m just saying.”

Callie poked her finger through the hole at the bottom of the shirt, the silence between them thin. 

“You don’t want to bring him?” her mom finally asked. 

“I do, just not at the moment,”

“Fighting?”

Callie’s lack of response said everything. “Is he a bastard?”

Callie snorted, cracking a smile. “He’s the opposite. Total sweetheart,” she mumbled, pouting a little. 

“Then what?” her mother pushed. 

“He cares too much about what people think or say about us,” she revealed, pulling her feet up to lay on her side. 

“Not everyone has your unshakable foundation,” _Everyone else did, actually_. “What was the fight about exactly?”

“Sometimes people will say stuff to us when we’re out, and before it didn’t seem to bother him but now he just gets so angry and yells and today he charged someone who he said was too close and it caused this whole scene in front of everyone and he’s already the Orc cop that everyone hates, he doesn’t need more of it,” she said in one breath.

“So you were embarrassed?”

“No! I didn’t even care what the dude was saying,”

“I meant by him- what’s his name again?” 

“Nick, and no he didn’t embarrass me but he’s getting borderline clingy when we go out,” She wished she could take that back. There was nothing annoying about holding his hand or his arm around her, because often she was the first one to initiate something like that. 

“Well I guess I’m a little thankful he’s paranoid about your safety than not being at all,” her mother suggested. 

“I guess,” Callie murmured, pulling her phone away when it vibrated against her cheek. 

**Going to bed, i love you**

She only responded with a heart at first, but it only took a few passing moments to go back and text she loved him too. Ending a night with such tension would ensure a sleepless evening. 

 

Nick looked at the message, then stuffed his phone under his pillow before hiding his face. It took around an hour to finally fall asleep, fighting his own urges to just call her.

* * *

“Calista?”

Her head shot up. The boy couldn’t have been older than 15; his cheeks were round and his eyes shining bright when she looked at him, so what was he doing here?

“Yes?” she replied skeptically, placing the order forms down on the countertop. 

“Enjoy your meal.” the boy smiled, placing the packaged food before her and leaving. 

She leaned forward to watch him walk out of the store, then opened the bag to reveal a burrito. She’d been so busy since opening that she hadn’t even realized it was past lunch.

Her grin was slight, but she set the food aside to finish her paperwork, and took out her phone. 

“From Orc boy?” Ashely asked, walking by with flattened boxes under her arm. 

“Mhm,” Callie hummed, typing. 

 

**Thank you, amore**

Nick exhaled in relief, replying: **you’re welcome baby**

“Boy I know that face,” Ward simpered, digging for the last of the chips in the bag. “The ‘I pissed my girl off and now I’m trynna make up for it’ face,” 

“Oh you know everything don’t you,” Nick mumbled, his thumbs gliding over his phone. 

“Been married long enough,”

“Mhm,” Another message came in: **Come over for dinner?**

“Sex’ll fix it.” Ward stated. Nick frowned, but nodded even though he knew it would take more than just that. But at least she was speaking to him. He sat deeper in the passenger seat, sipping his smoothie. 

↠

He stared at the bag beside him, hesitant to bring it with. Maybe packing an overnight bag had been overly confident in thinking he was back in her graces. _She only said dinner_ … 

Nick opted to leave it in the backseat before exiting his truck, but grabbed the grocery bag with the assorted bell peppers that had finally grown, and withheld saying anything when he inserted his key to unlock her door and the knob spun freely. Though he’d censured her damn near ten times about leaving it unlocked, she still continued to do so whenever he was planning on coming around. Just imaging what kind of harm could befall her in that short window of time was enough to make him sick.

“I left it open for you, don’t get mad,” Her voice came floating from her kitchen. He locked the deadbolt, hanging his keys beside hers. 

“Could’ve been a rapist,” he replied, leaning in the entryway to her kitchen. Still wearing her shoes and the long-sleeve thermal he’d bought her; burgundy looked so lovely over that honey skin. Must’ve only been home a little longer than his arrival.

“Or it could’ve been the hot Orc I’ve been seeing for a while,” she teased, looking at him smartly. She really needed new glasses. Those were bent and a little crooked, and he often questioned how she stood looking through such scratched lenses. He grinned and shook his head. 

“Check the arroz, yeah?” she asked. He placed the bell peppers beside her before poking the red rice as she finely chopped the onions and cilantro that would garnish the caldo she prepared. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but he could still sense some of the unease from the prior day. 

He spoke first, saying “I didn’t mean to explode,”

Only a glance in his direction so she could keep eye on her knife. 

“I just… I don’t want people harassing you,” 

“Until someone puts their hands on us, it’s only meaningless shit that doesn’t bother me, cause how many times has it been tweakers who wouldn’t even step out of their car?” she asked, pinching the diced garnishes onto a plate. 

“Like… every time,” he realized.

She rinsed her hands and faced him, her hip leaned against the counter. Nick followed suit, but leaned on his palm, staring down at her thoughtful eyes. 

“Is this too much for you?”

“No,” he replied quickly. That question had started coming up too often. Of course when this shit would happen, and it made him nervous wondering if she thought his confidence in them lasting was wavering. “But you can’t be surprised I get angry when people say what they do,”

“But it’ll keep happening no matter how many times you yell. I don’t want people to hate you more than they already do so please, please just let it go,” she pleaded. 

“They can hate me all they want as long as you’re safe,” he told her. Callie lolled her head some, sighing. It would just keep coming round circle no matter what avenue she took. So she nodded instead, looking down at her feet, burying her resentment.

“I’m sorry I didn’t talk yesterday,” she said softly, twisting her forefoot back and forth. 

“That pissed me off more than the whole thing,”

When she looked up, he was rubbing the back of his neck. “Really?”

He nodded. A few more beats of silence before she stepped forward, craning her neck to illicit a kiss from him. There it went; the tension and discomfort, falling to their feet as he pecked her again and again. 

“We good now?” she rasped. 

“You gonna make me sleep on the couch tonight?”

She smirked. “Who said you were staying the night?”

“Says the bag I brought with,” he answered, following her smile when she leaned back. 

“You can sleep at the foot of the bed.” she giggled, smacking his arm when he smacked her ass. 

They lazed through cleaning dishes after the two hours it had taken to eat, plus seconds, but that was common for Callie and Nick. Sitting around food at a table always evoked conversation that could drag on and on. He enjoyed watching her push her glasses up when they steamed, revealing an entirely new look with her fringe pushed back. 

While he flipped through Netflix, it gave her the chance to shower, and stand like a corpse under the piping water. November this time around had been bone chilling, which was surprising for LA, so she enjoyed how it felt running along her scalp and down her back and arms that erupted with goosebumps, but her toes were still cold when she stepped out. 

Callie heard the TV mumbling through the wall. After she’d lathered lotion across her body and rubbed Goo onto her tattoos, she pulled on a big shirt and panties in lieu of a full outfit. Nick was a heater all on his own when they curled up in her small bed. 

The steam swam from the bathroom when she opened the door, and after turning the corner into her living room, she grinned. 

It must’ve been a tiring day, judging by the way his head rested back and his arms sprawled out to his sides along the backing of the couch. Here she was already getting cold in her shirt and panties, and he was shirtless in his sweats. 

Her bare feet moved silently over the carpet, and she muted the TV before her knee pressed into the cushion beside his thigh, her other sliding over his lap. 

Nick was just starting to stir when she kissed from his chin to his carved cheek, her hips twisting this way and that way so no space was left between them. When he felt her legs were bare, his hands found her ass was nearly, pushing under her shirt to admire her bowed spine. She grinned against his cheek, holding the back of his head when he moved to inhale against her neck. 

“You smell so good,” he moaned. He angled his face into her hands, craving kisses, the cold, wet ends of her hair all around him. 

“I have to tell you something,” she whispered. 

His brow cocked, but his fingers still curled under the straps to her panties, teasing the sensitive skin where her thighs met her hips. “So tell me something,” he kissed under her jaw.

“My parents wanna meet you,”

Now he looked at her, but she stifled a giggle at the heightened state of alarm in his amber eyes. His fingers drummed against her thighs. 

“Oh,” he cleared his throat, adjusting his head against the cushion. “When?”

“Saturday, at my nephews birthday party,” 

“I don’t get more than three days to prepare for this?” he griped, his head rolling to the side. 

“You’ll be fine,” she whispered, kissing his exposed jaw again, her hands massaging down his chest. 

Nick shifted, his back stiffening when agile fingers scraped underneath his waistband. His dick twitched as it started to swell, smothered exquisitely beneath her warm pussy. 

“Still nervous,” he exhaled, his eyes shooting between them when her fingertip circled his head. 

“They’ll like you,” with certainty she said, her body rocking up when he pulled her underwear to the side. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, curling his wrist under her ass so his thick fingers could caress her wet lips. Her posture softened when he dipped a finger into her slick passage, accompanied by his snarl when she rocked back onto his hand, her ass pushing into his palm. 

“Rosie already flapped her lips about you,” she gasped when he took a nipple between his teeth, having pushed her shirt up already. “They already have a- have a general idea about you,” she managed to say, pushing his sweats down his hips with the back of her hands. 

“So they know an Orc is fucking their daughter?” he moved up to her clavicle, grunting as she pushed his tip between her swollen lips. “There won’t be any glares?”

“Hell no,” she was sliding around the length of his cock. “Rosie would’ve said something if you were like the other ones,” she grinned, and moaned when he pushed his dick down with his thumb, prodding her narrow entrance. 

“Other ones?” That cleared him some, enough to look up at her in puzzlement. She shook her head, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Exes,” she answered.

“Beside the proposing one?” he pressed, hissing when she rocked down to his base. 

“I had bad luck before meeting you,” 

“How bad?” he asked, his iron grip leaving marks behind on her ass when he decided to hold the back of the couch again so he could watch her core sheath him. The shine of her juices reflected off his dick, and he could smell them stirring in her, heightening with every second passed. 

“Couple bruises a week bad,” she said softly, her face hidden beside his. But he looked up, the bothersome image of a black eye or bloody lip shaking him from the warm fog he was floating in. He held her face, his thumb pulling down that plump bottom lip as she rocked over him. 

“Some would assume Orcs were like that,” he grumbled, but she snorted.

“I kinda told them how awesome you are, too,”

He chuckled, kissing her forcefully. “You think too highly of me,” he kissed down to her breast, whimpering when she took him in entirely. 

“Can’t help it, you’re kind of amazing,” she breathed, clinging to him when he bucked his hips upwards a few times. “So you’ll go?”

“Well duh,” 

“Okay good now fuck me,” 

He picked her up effortlessly and spun to drop her on the couch. Callie twisted out of her panties as he kicked his sweats off, and she held the armrest above her head when he hooked her knees over his elbows. 

Nick squeezed back in, groaning deeply. He watched where he fucked her with concentrated power, her ass smacking against his groin with every forceful impact. She sang and begged, her mouth agape with heavy breaths and drawn cries, her toes curling beside his shoulders. 

“You like that people know you’re fucking me, don’t you?” she panted, eyeing him wickedly. 

The amber of his eyes was minuscule compared to the blown width of his pupils when he looked at her. 

“You like it when they see the bites?” He slowed to savor the long sweeps in and out of her. “When other Orcs smell that you’ve fucked me?” she ground out, holding his face when he lowered, releasing her legs. “When they know you’ve filled me?”

“Fuck, Callie,” he gasped, burying his face against her neck. She rubbed his arching back, kissing his shoulder. He moved her head aside with his, his tongue running up her neck, lapping against her jaw. She clenched around him when he nipped there, and then he bit down, aggravating the tender skin. She hissed his name as he increased his tempo again, her nails digging sharply into his arms.

He was kissing the bruised skin when his end suddenly rushed him, so he sat up and held her arms down, pulling out to hide his head in her.

“Not yet,” he blustered, pulling from her completely.

“ _Baby_ ,” 

Oh, how he _loved_ when she sounded like that. Heady, as enticing as her soaked cunt she angled up to brush against his tip. 

“Shh,” His fingertips started at her swollen clit and slid downwards so his palm ground against it when his middle fingers curled in. “Always so wet.” 

She mewled when he drew tight circles against her clit, and she flew to hold his hand, trying to still him, but Nick was stronger. His head followed hers as she writhed, his open mouth brushing hers, and smiling when she tried to curse at him, but would blubber and whimper. “Nick- stop-” she gasped, her body growing rigid beneath him. “I’m gonna cum,” she cried, pulling herself up against him, forcing his hands to hold her.

Without looking, he poked until she swallowed him, her thighs tightening at his sides and a muffled whimper humming against his neck where her lips pressed. 

She fell back, but he held steadfast to her hips, fucking her with blinding speed. 

“So- fucking- good-” he panted, dropping her lower half. 

He kept at it, then pushed down on the right side of her hip. At that angle, coming to the crest of her orgasm was rapid. He knew every spot and position to send her there, to bare witness to the ferocity of the pleasure that clamped and fluttered around his cock, and blurred her vision as it flurried through her. 

Loud shouts ripped from him as he emptied into her, his member pulsing with every string of thick semen that filled her. He grunted as he came to his end slowly, pulling out to watch a thin strand of cum stretch from his tip to her pussy, but shoved back in with a satisfied groan. He fell onto his elbows, tensing with every flutter of her walls around him.

“You dirty birdy,” he panted, kissing her sloppily. 

She laughed, her hands caressing his face tenderly as her legs moved around him. “You prefer I called you _papi_?”

“ _Nooo_ ,” he lamented, finally laying over her. He listened to her breathing even as she dragged her nails up and down his back. 

“Gotta shower again,” she mumbled. 

“Me too,” 

“ _Pfft_ whatever, you just wanna do it again,”

He looked at her with a satisfied grin, wiggling his hips. 

She would tug his ear when he'd start to doze off, but if she blew across his cheek, his ears would flicker, making her giggle. The need to shower was becoming a distant thought the longer she laid there, her nails scraping the skin on the back of his neck. 

He was purring, his long exhales blowing across her skin. 

“Should I bring a gift?” he asked suddenly. 

“Wha- oh, no oh my God no,” she chuckled. “Bring yourself and they'll love you,” 

“Even though I'm an Orc?” he questioned, hiding his face against her cheek. 

“Even if you _weren't_ an Orc,” she said as she craned her neck to see him, and could see him working that one out in his head, deconstructing her meaning. 

“I’m too sleepy to decode that one,” he gave in, dropping his head. 

“They’d like you no matter what, is what it means,”

“Says the one who’s told me before you wouldn’t like me if I was human,”

“You know what I mean, smartass,” 

“Mhm,” he sighed, but she tugged on his ear again. 

“Shower,” she piped. “Aaand you need to get out,”

“So comfy,” he chuffed, nuzzling his face into her skin. 

“Nick,” she giggled, pushing on his wide shoulders. He sat up with a grunt, wiggling back so he finally slid from her. 

“No my _couch_!” she exclaimed, half laughing when she scooted backwards. “Oh God it’s a mess,”

“It’s not that bad, you big baby,” he chuckled, pulling her up by the hands and against his chest. 

“You have to clean up the spot,” she whined, stepping off the couch to wrap around him. “And me.”

“Why would I wanna do that when you smell so _good_ with everything in you?” he growled, carrying her to the bathroom with her legs wrapped around him.

* * *

Thankfully he’d been forced to park a ways down the street. Cars had lined the block, taking up anything available, but he didn’t pitch a fit this time. Was this what Callie felt like before a panic attack? 

_How did she fucking cope?_

“Nick,” she sighed, patting his back. He grunted. “You’re overreacting, baby,” she looked down the street as he leaned on his hands against his truck, desperate for his rattling nerves to quiet. The 5 kilo bag of warm tortillas she’d waited 45 minutes for was starting to make her arm sore, but she bit her tongue, following him around while he struggled to swallow the vomit he swore he felt crawling up his throat. 

“I _know_ ,” he carped, standing straight, and pulling his Clubmasters from the collar of his shirt to put them on. “I keep thinking about that thing you told me,” he exhaled, grabbing her hand and finally making their way down the street.

“When I told you about the machetes I told you it was for protection in case someone breaks in,”

“What if he pulls one from under a table and kills me?” 

“Only way that’ll happen is if you smack me or disagree on soccer teams,” she grinned, snaking her arm around his waist when he faltered. 

“Of all things to not tell me about-”

But they were already approaching the house the loud music and people poured from, and where a bouncy house was sat in the driveway. Kids ran around their legs in loud laughter as her hand slid back into his, leading him through the tables and chairs that were set all over the place after she’d handed off the bag of tortillas. Streamers, balloons, and the biggest piñata he’d ever laid eyes on was overhead, strung cleverly between a large tree and edge of the roof. 

Adults sat, some standing, chatting, eating and drinking over the same kind of loud music that he’d often been called out on during his night shifts to silence, but it was different being inside the chaos. Though he still kept his wide shoulders pinched in so he didn’t bump into anyone, there was no hostility he felt following at the back of his head. 

Callie would wave or kiss cheeks quickly as she passed various people, letting her hand in his do most of the explaining, but there was no doubt some weighted stares with him in tow, yet after they’d pass, people went back to their conversations. They looked at him with more curiosity than unlikeness. When his eyes made contact with other sets, smiles didn’t turn to whispers, or disgusted frowns. 

He bumped into her when she stopped suddenly. 

“Santi, this is Nick. Nick, my brother Santiago and his wife Paola,” Callie introduced, moving aside to reveal Nick, although his height over her didn’t _need_ any revealing. 

“What’s up man?” Santi shook his hand strongly. Like Callie, he was colored with tattoos. Colorful sleeves up his arms and lining his neck, and few that lined his sharp jaw, but his grin was kind. Big eyes like Callie’s, but everything else was different; nothing else alike to his sisters. Nick nodded curtly, and waved to his wife who smiled warmly at him, her round cheeks squinting her dark eyes. 

“You the dude she’s been hiding on snapchat?” Santiago asked, receiving a smack on each shoulder from Callie and his wife. 

“Hope so, was he white or blue?” Nick replied smartly.

“Don’t encourage him,” Callie glared, pulling Nick away to leave her laughing brother to his scolding wife. 

“Is that Patricia?” he asked closer to her ear as they approached Rosie beside the other sister he’d heard cold stories about, and had managed to avoid until now. The one who was shaped from trauma, and showed her love in peculiar, albeit harsher ways. She stood with a solid frame, her narrow shoulders pulled in like a corpse. 

“Yep,” she cleared her throat. “Trish, this is Nick,” she stated flatly while he was giving Rosie a quick side hug. 

If he thought Rosie’s eyes could make him feel small, Patricia’s could turn him to stone. 

He’d often heard the light voice over the phone when her and Callie would talk, but he never expected such a worn, and weathered essence to what appeared outwardly as a still young and lively looking woman. A single mother abandoned by her husband and left homeless would do that to a person, though. So he stuck his hand out, shaking gently when she grabbed his forcefully, more than necessary. 

“Officer boyfriend, huh?” she asked. Rosie and Callie both rolled their eyes back, inhaling. 

“It’s really nice to finally meet you, Patricia,” Nick still said kindly. She withdrew her hand faster than he could. 

“Yeah. Here, I’m gonna go find Tomas,” she said, handing Rosie her drink before turning to walk away. Callie shook her head, shooting daggers at her sister. 

“She hates me,” Nick decided, the aroma of hot food extinguishing any sour emotions over the matter as his chin lifted ever so slightly to scent the air. 

“Nah, she hates everyone,” Rosie corrected, sipping Trish’s drink. “So what’s good, Tall Boy? You two been knockin’ boots too much to go double dating?”

Callie snapped vehemently at her in spanish, only eliciting a string of raspy giggles from Rosie. 

“Tall Boy?” Nick repeated, but Callie was already pulling him away by the arm, and he was sure he caught ‘untrustworthy whore’ under her breath. 

“Daryl your wife needs a muzzle.” She said at passing to a taller man walking by with a little boy in his arms, his long hair shielding narrow eyes and framing an unkind face, yet there was a gentle and calm nature in the way he softly hushed the boy in his arms. 

“She’d scalp me if I even tried.” he replied as he walked on. His voice was gravely like Rosie’s, and Nick turned in time to see him deposit the crying boy in Rosie’s arms. That’s when he recalled the tale Callie had told him about her former children. She cradled him tenderly, rocking side to side as her husband leaned behind her to smile at the curly haired boy in her arms that still tried to hide his face. 

“That’s one of the little ones?” Nick asked, turning back. 

“Yep, and there goes the other one- Dyani!” she called happily, tickling the cheeks of a girl who looked at most only a year over Joaquin as she ran by, giggling at her aunt’s call. She looked like Rosie’s husband, even comparing at only a quick passing glance. Traits carried heavily in this family, it seemed. 

“I shoulda figured her husband would be a white boy with a last name like Dixon,” Nick commented, but got an elbow in his side from Callie as they walked up to a pair of thicker, taller men, the beers in their hands appearing miniscule. 

“These are my favorite cousins Jaime and Marcos,” she introduced. 

“Aye you’re the cop from TV no?” Jaime asked, shaking his hand. He made Nick look minute. 

“Yeah that’s me,” he groaned. 

“Where’s your uniform, homes? I wanted to see the gun,” 

“It showed all the way in San Diego?” Callie asked, reaching down beside them to grab two beers from the cooler at their side. 

“Everywhere. You’re international news, cabron,” Marcos bumped his shoulder. 

“I’d be more enthusiastic if they paid me for all the exposure,” Nick grumbled, smirking downwards when Callie chuckled. The brothers nodded, bumping their bottles with his and carried onto a lighter conversation, but Nick was itching to turn and look, to survey how many sets of eyes were on him, however Callie’s arm snaking under his to hold behind his back helped soothe that unease she probably saw in the way he squeezed his bottle. 

They moved from the men, and she stopped occasionally to introduce him proudly, her hand sometimes resting on his chest when she bragged about him. He was flattered, but being so social made him want to hide. 

“You ready for the hard part?” she said under her breath. 

“What what why what?” he rambled, leaning back from her pull, the terrifying suspicion that the older couple she had brought him to were her parents, standing at the back of the commotion, chatting with another older couple. 

“Nick, these are my parents Diego and Luciana,”

He wanted to _run_. He’d take on a hundred Brights with wands shining and creaking at him before he could ever muster anything close to a solid confidence for a moment like this, but there was no going back now. They turned to their daughter with smiles on their faces, creases beside their eyes from years of laughter, and Nick swiftly pulled his sunglasses off. 

“Ah, the cop?” her father asked, his accent thick. 

They both nodded, and Callie pulled her lips in to hide her wide smile, swearing she could feel her towering Orc lover trembling beside her. 

“Good to finally meet you!” her father exclaimed, shaking Nick’s hand. The skin of his unyielding grip was worn and old, much like the skin of his face after years of work under the sun, but there was still an impressive amount of hair atop his head despite his age. 

“Thanks for letting me come, Mr. Flores,” Nick managed. _Thanks for letting me come? What the fuck?_

“Ahh, it’s about time Calista brings you around,” Diego beamed. She rolled her eyes. 

“Ma, this is Nick,” she told her mother, who was waiting patiently. 

This is where all of their striking eye color came from. A woman whose beauty still held true in older age. He wondered if she was the type of grandma to always have a candy in her pocket for the grandbabies, and his curiosity was validated when she held his hands, speaking to him in Spanish and smiling kindly. He nodded and grinned, the anxiety only rising as she went on and on. 

“Mom, English,” Callie chuckled. 

“Have you eaten mijo? Come- there’s carnitas y frijoles,” and she was already leading Nick away, her arm linked around his to ensure he followed despite looking back at Callie desperately. 

Callie shrugged, secretly amused. This was what she expected from her family, but she’d kept that to herself, knowing if she would have told Nick, it would’ve only worsened his nervousness that plagued him the days leading up to this. She was also sure he didn’t understand any of the words spoken to him from her mother and a couple aunts and cousins as they helped pile food onto a plate for him, but seeing him smile and struggle was too funny. 

“ _He looks like he wants to run_ ,” her father said standing beside her. “ _Hard to think he’s a cop_.”

“ _He’s a cop when he needs to be_ ,” she smiled, watching him. 

“ _Thank God it’s not another white boy _,” the dad sighed in relief, bringing his hands together in fake prayer. Callie gently shoved her dad before walking away.__

__Diego observed, largely on Nick. How the Orc who towered over his youngest daughter smiled when she popped up beside him, and relaxed visibly when she was at his side, helping him navigate her curious aunts and family friends. How he waited patiently at a table when she caught up with other people instead of demanding she stay at his side. He saw the light return to Callie’s eyes, the veil of a false smile unseen when she joined the Orc again, showing him how to pinch the torn tortilla around the carnitas._ _

__“This’is almost better than yours,” Nick slurred, his plate almost cleaned._ _

__“Where do you think I got it from?” Callie asked, drizzling salsa over her food._ _

__Nick nodded, casually looking over the heads and faces of everyone, but stopped dead when his eyes befell on three Brezziks moving silently towards the back where her parents still stood._ _

__“Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?” Nick mumbled, and was puzzled to watch Callie look behind herself, but only nod._ _

__“What are they doing here?”_ _

__She cocked a brow. “Careful baby, you almost sounded human,” she warned. He bit his tongue, mindful of his expressions as he watched them curiously. They moved over the ground so gracefully despite their size, and Nick could pick up on their low chirping as two of them looked around while the third spoke to Callie’s dad, even shaking Luciana’s hand._ _

__“They work with my dad,” she started, scooting closer. “Jami and Joca are brothers,” she pointed to the darker ones with gold scales shimmering down their sleek noses. “And Cadu has been my dads’ partner since I was like, 2. He was there for parties, emergencies, graduations- he went with me to get my first piercing,” she whispered the last part, snickering when Nick eyed her._ _

__Nick looked over her. “Your ears?”_ _

__“Tongue,” she corrected, which was obviously gone now. He looked back, oddly bewitched with watching the reptilian beings move around casually through her family, greeting other people._ _

__“That’s why you said I didn’t have anything to worry about,” he realized, looking back at her food stuffed cheeks, and goofy smile. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”_ _

__“Cause you came to meet my parents, not them. You would’ve had a nervous breakdown no matter what,” she giggled, and he pinched her side, making her jerk away and yelp._ _

__Although there was no shred of animosity aimed at him, the unwavering acceptance from across the party still caused a restlessness in his gut. Even on his most relentless days to prove himself worthy of acceptance, no one, or group had accepted him so easily._ _

__“Hey,” Callie held his hand in her smaller ones, kissing his knuckles so he’d look at her. “Stay here with me,” she lulled, and leaned into his palm when it cupped her cheek. “Don’t walk away with those bad thoughts”_ _

__He shook his head. “Nowhere without you.”_ _

__But a rowdy Rosie broke them up when she gave him lingering kisses, a beer shoved between their faces._ _

__“Stop sucking face in front of the niños, you freaks,” Rosie said with a cigarette pinched between her lips, sitting beside Callie._ _

__“Says the one who was sticking her tongue down Daryl’s throat at that party last week,” Callie retorted._ _

__“I’m a married woman, that justifies anything I partake in,”_ _

__“Even public sex?”_ _

__Nick’s brows rose._ _

__“Oh shut up, like you two haven’t gone at it in one of the cruisers,” Rosie snorted, looking up when Daryl plucked the cigarette from her mouth and sat beside her with Dyani in his lap._ _

__“You told her about that?” Nick said under his breath, his golden eyes wide and his cheeks darkening._ _

__“Get used to it, Tall Boy, ain’t nothin’ left unsaid between us,” Rosie simpered, winking at the flushed Orc._ _

__“Okay what the hell is the Tall Boy thing?” Nick asked, looking at Callie who was mouthing curses at her sister._ _

__“I’ll tell you later-”_ _

__“Listen here, Nicky, and I’ll explain-” Rosie started, but Daryl pinched his wife's thigh with a contained grin._ _

__“I’ll tell him later!” Callie hollered._ _

__“I wanna know now though,” Nick grinned. She sighed, pulling him closer so she could whisper into his ear._ _

__Rosie boomed with laughter when Nick hid his face in embarrassment, Callie hiding her own against his shoulder, even though she thought there was nothing really to be bashful about. If anything, Nick should’ve been proud of the nickname, but interactions like this were new for him._ _

__“Well if we’re gonna talk about embarrassing shit let’s bring up the beans and dildo, Rose,” Callie smiled viciously, holding onto Nick’s arm and laughing when Daryl nearly spit his drink all over his daughter. “Apa!” Little Dyani wailed in her fathers lap._ _

__“Bitch that’s different!” Rosie exclaimed._ _

__“You told her about that?” Daryl hissed, but they could still hear him over the music that pulled people from their seats to shuffle around and laugh._ _

__“We tell eachother everything- this isn’t news, gringo,” Rosie said lovingly, her sheepish grin easing none of Daryl’s humiliation._ _

__Nick listened to the two argue playfully before it turned back on Callie, who in turn only had double the ammunition against her sister as their bickering carried on. It often swayed to brief stories that left Nick questioning just what kind of girl Callie used to be during her teen years, but when a small hand tapped his arm, he turned to see Dyani, and her narrow blue eyes and dark curls looking up at him curiously._ _

___Sneaky little thing_ ; he hadn’t seen her slip away from her parents and wander over. _ _

__“Hi there,” Nick said, and watched as she gently poked down his arm, following the patterning of his skin._ _

__“You’re blue,” she said bluntly, her tiny voice already scratchy._ _

__“Dyani!” Rosie scolded, starting to stand._ _

__“It’s okay,” Nick stopped, turning his arm. “I’m also green and pink,”_ _

__She looked up at him, her head tilting this way and that, observing his features with wonder in her sharp eyes. “Your teeth are short,” she added, reaching to touch his chin._ _

__“ _Dyani_ ,” Daryl said now. _ _

__“Did it hurt?” she asked. Nick nodded._ _

__“Can you still eat?” she pressed on. Nick nodded again, chuckling. She stood on her toes to look at the table surface, eyeing his plate. “There’s food, I can help you eat if you want?”_ _

__“Knew it,” Callie laughed._ _

__Dyani made quick work of crawling into Nick’s lap and pulling his plate back, rolling the leftover tortilla better than he did._ _

__“I’m sorry, she eats like a grown man,” Rosie sighed, watching her daughter down what was left of the plate._ _

__“Really, it’s okay. It’s rare when kids this age don’t scream when they see me,” he explained, holding his spoon when she handed it to him._ _

__“Daddy material, eh?” Rosie asked Callie, who was lost watching her lover help her niece carefully; a side she’d never seen from him before. But Nick saw the underlying sadness in her small smile when Rosie said that, and he held her knee when her eyes glazed over, her darkest wishes playing before her eyes, like a tease._ _

__“How’d you two meet?” Daryl asked, his arm stretched behind Rosie atop the back of her chair._ _

__The light returned to Callie’s eyes when Nick grinned at her, recalling the interactions all that time ago._ _

__“It’s not that exciting,” he said, and she pushed on his arm._ _

__“He came into the store one day for the ATM and a bag of Funions,” she started._ _

__“Even though I hate Funions,” the Orc commented._ _

__“Aw he spent money on something he hated for you?” Rosie beamed._ _

__“He kept coming back again and again, and we kept talking,” Callie smiled at him._ _

__“Then there was the crackhead that one night,”_ _

__“And when we went to the pier?”_ _

__“And then when your ass interrupted us,” Callie glared at her sister, who in turn rolled her eyes._ _

__“Oh shut up, everything worked out,”_ _

__“Yeah I guess,” Callie sighed, smirking up at Nick when he eyed her._ _

__“You guess?” he mimicked._ _

__“I love you,” she sang._ _

__“You guess?”_ _

__“I love yooouuu,”_ _

__“You _guess_?” he dug his fingers into her side, but she couldn’t wiggle away from his hold until she admitted defeat, remaining pressed against his side as they all continued to chat. _ _

__↠_ _

__The cold of November had chased some of the party goers back home for the night, but a majority stayed behind, lost in conversation and enjoying the heinous amounts of food that everyone would surely be able to take home in the form of leftovers. Kids sat huddled in the jumper, emptying the goody bags and some of them watching YouTube on their parents phones so said parents could remain huddled around the tables with each other, the music low now, but still filling in the silence of paused words._ _

__Callie looked up from her busy hands, often checking on Nick who she’d left with her dad. Once it came out that Nick liked gardening as much as he did, she’d known the two would be chatting each others ears off for some time, and it gave her the chance to help her mom and Patricia clean up around the lone tables. She’d grin when he looked over, sometimes winking._ _

__“Chaparrita,”_ _

__Callie turned, but already knew who had called._ _

__“Hey,” she replied cooly to her aunt, far from thrilled that she’d decided to attend._ _

__“Good party, huh?” she asked, and Callie nodded, glancing at the strained fibers of her ripped jeans and the brightly colored shirt that did her skin tone no favors._ _

__“Yeah, surprised everyone from SD could make it down on such short notice,”_ _

__“We all know Patricia barely scrapes by so it was important,” her aunt chortled. Callie faltered, and clenched her jaw._ _

__“She’s a hard worker,”_ _

__“If she got a better job-”_ _

__“You mean if Michael hadn’t skipped out on her and Tomas?” Callie retorted, but her aunt only sneered, shrugging, fixing her stiff, dull orange hair that was damaged from cheap dye._ _

__She was almost done collecting the last of the empty plates from the table, thankful for the silence but bothered by her presence when she spoke again, saying, “Never thought you’d date an Orc. Heard awful things about them. Figured after your past you’d stay away from the violent kind,”_ _

__Cal was almost unmoving except for her foot hurriedly bouncing, her teeth gnawing the inside of her lip as she stared down at a plate in her hands. Everything she wanted to scream at her in Nick’s defense was alarming in her head, but all she managed in an uneasy voice was, “He’s a cop,”_ _

__Her aunt scoffed, and tears burned the back of Callie’s eyes. “Clan law doesn’t make exceptions,” she exhaled, looking at her. “Just don’t marry into it, then you’d really be stuck. Good thing you can’t have babies otherwise it’d probably be too late,” she laughed, nudging Callie’s arm._ _

__Nick had looked over as his conversation with Diego started to trail off, and upon seeing that familiar stillness in her where she stood beside a woman he hadn’t yet met, he knew something was wrong. He fought the impulse to charge through her family and sweep her up when he knew just by the look of her that something liverish was gripped to her._ _

___What the fuck happened?__ _

__“Wouldn’t wanna end up with 5 kids from 3 different guys, huh?” Callie hissed back, her glossy eyes finally meeting her aunts. She didn’t smile again, honestly at least, but sized Callie up before walking away, joining a small huddle of family at another table._ _

__Nick watched the woman move away, and waited for Callie to look at him again, but her sight remained trained to the plate in her hands, until she turned suddenly to dart away._ _

__He was thankful Diego had already started up with someone else so he could walk away, scanning over tops of heads in search of his girl, but she’d slipped under his radar. The farther he moved from the soft light of the lanterns hanging over, the quieter the street became as he ambled down the sidewalk. He couldn’t see anyone leaned besides the house, and he guessed she couldn’t have moved fast enough to turn the corner at the end of the street._ _

__With a turn around, he spotted a short figure beside his truck. _There she is_. _ _

__But he could also see Callie’s mom the closer he got, so he stopped. Even though he could hear the distress in her voice as she cried to Luciana, Nick remained. It wasn’t his place to help unless it was only them two, and her mom probably knew better ways to calm her. But it proved difficult to leave her when all he wanted to do was pick her up and calm whatever storm she was fighting._ _

__Nick gave a few looks over his shoulder as he walked back to the party, and stood on the sidelines, his eyes moving over figures until he found the woman he’d seen by Callie before._ _

__She didn’t look menacing, but taking someone at face value was never a sure thing._ _

__So he moved along until he found Santiago sitting with his daughters, and sat down beside him after he’d grabbed another drink._ _

__“Hey- who’s that? With the green shirt?” Nick asked under the ruckus around them, pointing when Santi leaned back._ _

__“Our Aunt Laidee, why?” Santi questioned._ _

__“She was talking to Callie and now your mom’s talkin’ to Callie cause she’s upset,”_ _

__Santi rolled his eyes with a shake of his head. “She was probably pickin’ at her again. She can’t keep out of everyone's business but Callie’s always her main target,” he explained._ _

__“Why?”_ _

__“Dunno, she picked her out of the crowd one day and hasn’t let up,”_ _

__Nick looked back to Laidee, who in turn was now looking at him, but now he could see the underlining cruelty in her aged eyes and thin lips when she grinned at him._ _

__“She don’t like me,” Nick grumbled, maintaining eye contact as she looked him up and down._ _

__“She don’t like anyone except herself,” Santi scoffed, turning back to his kids._ _

__Nick was ready to stalk over and ask her what her problem was when he saw Callie’s mom beelining through people, her once round, happy eyes arched in anger as she grabbed her sister by the arm and hissed something close to her ear. The two bickered, Laidee visibly trying to shrug Luciana off until she pulled her by the arm away from everyone, out by the street where she really started to lay into her._ _

__And then Callie showed up again, her arms crossed and ambling towards him._ _

___Oh no_ , her eyes were red and swollen, her nose a little pinker. _ _

__“Hey baby,” he said softly, pulling her chair closer when she sat beside him and pressed against his side._ _

__“I still run to my mom when I’m upset,” she mumbled, hiding half her face against him. She looked exhausted all the sudden, like too much had been demanded of her at once._ _

__“Your mom looks like the kind of person I’d want in my corner too,” Her sight moved to her mom and aunt arguing, both of them riddling off quick words even she had trouble understanding. “And I heard from a reliable source that your aunt is kind of a bitch,”_ _

__She chuckled then, leaning forward on her elbows atop her knees._ _

__“That bad?” he asked. She nodded, dropping her face when that annoying sting of tears pricked her eyes. “Hey,”_ _

__Gently he pushed her chin up with his finger, mimicking her, and Callie following suit when he squared his shoulders. “Fuck who ever doesn’t like you,” he recited, the brilliant smile she gave in return breathtaking, even if her eyes were still glossy._ _

__Her forehead landed on his shoulder, and his arm reached over her lap to bring her close, kissing the top of her head and whispering how much he loved her._ _

__If either of them had work the following morning, neither would’ve stayed as late as they did, but she told him that it was the norm for Mexican families to hang around well into the night. With the tres leches devoured, doughnuts and coffee broke out, the last of them that was Callie’s parents and her siblings with their lovers and children moving into the garage, all bundled in the cold night around a game of Uno, teasing and talking. Dyani had followed Nick around the better part of the evening, and had again made her way into his lap to help him pick his cards with a pan dulce clutched in her hand._ _

__Nick laughed with them, and even joined in on the jesting when they went after him, but still hid his face when her mom- who had a completely raunchy and unexpected sense of humor- stopped him or Callie dead in their tracks._ _

__Patricia still didn’t give him more than a forced grin, but he brushed it off when Cal assured him she just hated men in general and wouldn’t even speak to Daryl._ _

__The pair finally left when 1 AM had come and gone, and her mom held Nick’s cheeks as she insisted he come to see them again on the weekends after church, promising food. He passed a sleeping Dyani from his arms to Rosie’s, carefully prying his badge that he always carried with him from her tiny fist after he’d let her hold it._ _

__Nick didn’t even bother flipping on any lights when they arrived at his home, and wandered right into his room, tossing his phone and keys down on the nightstand before flopping onto his bed. It was the best kind of tired; one that didn’t ache in his heart as well as his body, but one that was had after a day of just… fun._ _

__He kicked out of his jeans and grunted while he forced his shirt off, wiggling into the center of his bed and tossing his blankets this way and that, finally finding deep comfort on his back, flat against the cold sheets that gave him goosebumps._ _

__He could hear Callie in the bathroom, brushing her teeth and washing the makeup from her eyes, then bumping into the laundry hamper she always managed to clip her toes on. He snorted._ _

__“Ugh get these off,” she groaned, pushing her jeans down her thighs as she made her way into the bedroom, and then her layered shirts up and over her head, then finally her bra down her arms._ _

__Left only in the royal blue panties he had bought for her, she sashayed up his body, softly kissing his lips. Nick laced his fingers against her back when she laid on him, pressing her face under his jaw._ _

__“You’re my favorite pillow,” she mumbled, sliding her body for added point._ _

__“Good to know I’m of some use,”_ _

__“Mmm… hey,” she sat up to look at him. “When do I get to meet your parents?”_ _

__“When they answer their phones,”_ _

__Her brows furrowed. “Busy?”_ _

__“Always,”_ _

__She nodded, resting her head back down._ _

__“Your family is awesome by the way,” he commented._ _

__“Yeah?”_ _

__“Mhm. I used to get annoyed having to go and break those kinds of parties up some nights when people would call in, but being a part of one changes how I feel about them,”_ _

__“And how you’ll handle them?” she asked, and he nodded._ _

__“I’ll tell ‘em _calmase_ ,” _ _

__“Hey! Good job,” she smiled, patting his chest. “Mi viejo,”_ _

__His ears twitched. “What’s that?”_ _

__Callie giggled. “My old man,”_ _

__She cackled when he pinched her sides, but snuggled tight into his chest when he rolled them over, rubbing her thigh that bent to rest on his hip._ _

__“I love you.” he mumbled, sleep starting to rock him._ _

__“I love you.” she assured, pulling the blankets over them, knowing he’d just kick them off soon._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, there it is... where it all starts to take form...  
> and yes, we buy our fresh tortillas in 5 kilo bags. a lot of people would be surprised just HOW MUCH we use tortillas in like... everything? 
> 
> I don't think this needs any translations?? But just in case:  
> -Okay pues: is literally 'okay then'  
> -Arroz: rice  
> -Carnitas y frijoles: carnitas are shredded pork (so good omg), and beans  
> -chaparrita: is a way to call a girl short, like 'shorty'  
> -tres leches: is a cake soaked in 3 types of milks, extreme yums  
> -pan dulce: kind of a wide meaning? mexican pastries basically. like crack, once you have one you want them ALL  
> -calmase: calm down
> 
> the name Dyani: is pronounced (dee-yah-knee), _Dyani_  
>  Jaime isn't 'Jamie', it's (hi-may), _Jaime_  
>  Tomas isn't 'Thomas', it's (toe-mas), _Tomas_
> 
> the nickname 'Tall Boy' is in reference to a 24 oz can, like a beer. it's a dick reference in case you didn't get it hehehehehehehehehehehe  
> Thanks for reading!! n_n


	8. Battles

“She said I was clingy,”

Ward stared at him, at loss for words as the Orc drove the cruiser through streets that were quiet that afternoon. 

“Are you?”

“No, but when assholes harasses us _yeah_ , I stay close,” Nick bit back. 

“And she don’t like that?”

“She wants me to just ‘let it go’,” his hands rose from the wheel to make quotations. 

“Well shit if she’s telling you it isn’t a big deal than why _are you_ letting it bother you?”

“Cause I don’t want her to be harrassed- why don’t you two understand that?”

“Hey don’t be gettin’ smart with me, I ain’t your lady,” Ward mocked, receiving a cold stare from his partner. “Dude if she’s chill about it, follow suit. Don’t make a mountain out of a molehill.”

Nick rolled his eyes, regretting having said anything to him. 

↠

“I shouldn’t’ve said clingy,” Callie groaned, her elbow draped over her eyes and her legs up on Rosie’s couch. The heating pad was doing little to alleviate the cramping that had worsened throughout the day, and would most likely continue to despite her best efforts to stay out of the ER. 

“Well the truth hurts sometimes,” Rosie replied, tossing a ball back and forth with Joaquin. She looked down in time to see her sister wince, and wiggle her shoulder blades against the hard floor she’d refused to move from for a couple hours. 

“Sure you don’t wanna go in?”

“I’m sure,”

“Maybe-”

“They’ll keep me there for 8 hours then send me on my way with Motrin. I’m sure,” 

Joaquin wandered off to find his sister, the toddlers already engaged in a conversation of babbles and occasional shouting. Rosie looked back down, her lips in a straight line. 

“Does Nick know?”

Callie sighed. “He’s ignoring me,”

“Y’all-”

“Shut up.”

* * *

Nick was _mad_. 

Worried no doubt, but anger ruled. Which is why he left the station without even changing, not even bothering to leave his belt behind before driving to the emergency room. Maybe he could pull the cop card if anyone gave him shit about looking for her, but he couldn’t manage to pick up her scent with everything going on around him. 

He approached the nurses station, and withheld the urge to roll his eyes when she looked visibly startled by his charging form. 

“I’m looking for Calista Flores?”

“Can I help you with something officer?” the younger one asked, probably unaware of what to do in a situation like this. Nick withheld another gesture. 

“Calista Flores,” he said slower. 

“Nick?”

He turned, her voice barely a tone above the commotion around them, but he managed to follow the general direction to a closed, lonesome curtain. Slipping past it, he found her curled and wrapped in blankets, the line to a heating pad snaking out from the folds. She looked exhausted; must’ve been a bad one. When they were painful enough, they’d keep her from sleeping. 

He closed the curtain behind himself, and even though he could've yelled at her for Rosie being the one to tell him where she was, he still leaned over to kiss her cheek a few times and rub her back, moving her hair aside when it fell around her face. 

“Are you still working?” she asked as he pulled the chair closer to her gurney. 

He shook his head, staring at her blankly. She stared back, tempted to pull the blankets up over her head.

“It was gonna be over with as soon as I got out of here,” she tried, but he still stared. 

“You were ignoring me,” she mumbled, and his head rolled back. 

“You think I would’ve ignored that?” 

“I told you I fell down the stairs and you didn’t say anything,”

“Cause who texts after falling down stairs?” he retorted, leaning forward. Now she hid half her face, moreso to hide the guilty smirk she couldn’t bite down. 

“I still wanted to know. You’ve told me how bad they can get,” Nick sighed, kissing her hand when it poked out of the blankets to scrape her fingertip against his cheek playfully. 

“Then no more ignoring me,” she mumbled. “Come home with me?”

“I dunno, don’t wanna be too clingy,” he said flatly. Her tired eyes conveyed the apology he wouldn’t pester her for, especially not now. 

“I miss you,” 

His brows furrowed. “I’m still around?”

“You’ve been working a lot more,” 

“Yeah… yeah,” he muttered, rubbing his palm from his forehead to the back of his head. Callie’s small hand tugged on his, bringing him forward to rest his elbows on the thin mattress so she could cradle his head against her chest, her nails scraping the back of his neck. His exhale was long, and she saw his shoulders drop where goosebumps rose on his skin. 

“You’re tired,” she mumbled, and he nodded. “Me too.”

* * *

What started this? 

How had it gone from an issue they could work on to… this? 

He wouldn’t listen, but neither would she, he’d say. 

When had he gone from the Orc who laughed all the time when they made plans to go out, to barely looking at her, his eyes everywhere else, as if he was actively looking for someone that was gawking at them? Even when she’d pull his face back to hers, she saw right through that false smile before he’d just pull her along, moving through the day instead of enjoying it with her. Where was his mind while he stared off? What was the point of even going out when he stayed locked in his own head she’d ask, but there was never really a solid answer. 

“What the fuck does it matter what anyone else says?” she snapped, following him into his room. “S’not like they’re following us home!”

“Do you listen to what you’re saying? You’re questioning why I’m worried for your safety?” he spun to face her as he pulled his shirt off, tossing it angrily on the floor beside his closet. 

“Are you? You’re freaking out over our safety when 99 percent of the time no one even says anything! You’re attacking people over looks! Shit they might just be looking around and happen to make eye contact cause YOU’RE the one who can’t stop staring when we’re out!”

“Oh whatever,” he grumbled, moving to his bed. 

“Those people you swear are itching to fuck with us aren’t even mildly threatening until you get in their faces and start shit, Nick,”

The flicker of his ears told her he was listening, even though he didn’t look at her once he’d sat on his bed. She held her face, moving her hair back before pulling her own shirt off and crawling beside him, sat on her knees. 

“Nick,” 

He finally looked at her, the softness of her voice making him sleepy, so ready to end this same fight that they'd had far too often in the passing weeks. 

“What’s happening?” she asked. 

He shook his head, plucking at her thin fingers on his forearm. 

“You’re gonna grow tired of it, I know it,” he muttered. “I don’t want them to even look at you,” 

She leaned over to grab his attention, pausing before kissing him carefully, worried he’d retract. 

“I don’t care who looks,” she whispered, kissing him again. “I don’t care,” She kissed his cheek, scooting on her knees so she sat closer, holding his face when he started to drift into her touch. “Keep looking at me and no one else will matter,” she breathed, reclining when he made the move to kiss her. 

“You’re all I look at,” he moaned. 

“It’s just us two, Nick,” 

He moved onto his hands and knees, following her when she slid back, her mouth brushing his until he claimed her lips with a growl as her knees parted to let him in.

Smothered between his warm body and bed was his undoing. She adored the wet kisses on her mouth and neck, the way his rough hands moved so harshly across her skin, how he’d slur words she couldn’t understand against her. 

“Just stay- stay with me,” she whimpered, crying out when he had her panties moved aside and was pushing in. 

During cold nights like this, screaming his name against his shoulder as he’d fuck her mercilessly, it was easy to think they could forget this one fight out of hundreds and start over again, at least until the next one came up, disturbing the thin veil that hardly guarded them from the issues they couldn’t get around. 

But hearing it… 

_I love you so much, Callie_.

She buried her heart in his, trusting he’d keep it safe like she kept his. 

_Keep telling me that. If you do, we can get over this_. 

But running in circles always brings you back to where you left off. 

Sweeping problems under the rug meant cleaning an even bigger mess later down the line. 

And sometimes, those small piles you could hide become mountains- mountains that grow between people, and their height becomes too much to desire climbing. Or that treacherous climb frightens them, so they stay at the base of their mountain, ignoring the point that could quake and shatter, and crush them at any time. 

In the end, when mountains crumble, they become piles of debris too massive for one person to clean up. 

He had come over that afternoon, trudging slowly up her stairs and knowing her door would be unlocked. He gave up trying to convince her to stop, and in the end bought her a bat and keychain pepper spray, hoping it would never come to that. 

“Hey,” he said out loud, finding her folding laundry at her table. He kissed her head, turning to sit on her couch and stretch with a long groan. 

She watched him, grabbing a pillow and hugging it with his face smooshed against the fabric. 

So far so good, considering it was only that morning they’d reconciled after a particularly gnarly fight that had managed to draw out the duration of a few days. 

“You okay?” she asked, tossing panties into the hamper by her feet. 

“Exhausted,” he sighed. She nodded, pursing her lips. 

“Guess you don’t wanna go out today?”

“Thinking we could stay in and rent a movie or something?” he looked at her, and caught the distatse in her face before she turned back around. 

“What?”

“You never wanna go out anymore, that’s what,” she muttered. 

Nick held his face; _here we go again_.

“We just went to that aquarium,” he retorted. 

“And what happened at the aquarium?”

She was glaring, but so was he. The reconciliation meant nothing. Here it was, slingshotting back into their lives again. But he also had nothing to say for himself, because he had in fact blown up on a passing group of teens that he swore whispered something about them she didn’t catch. 

Callie turned back around, continuing what she was doing. 

“I’m tired, that’s why I wanted to stay in,” 

When she scoffed, he sat up in time for her to stand and collect her piles, but then she spun quickly. 

“That’s a lie. You just don’t want anyone looking at us,” 

“Jesus you make it sound worse than it is,” he groaned. 

“It is worse! You’ve changed!’

“No I haven’t, Cal,”

“You have! You can’t keep your shit in check and you’re- you’re always looking at someone else just fucking waiting for someone to say something! It’s like you’re looking for a fight, Nick,” she grieved. 

Her big eyes welled with tears, the weight of the words she’d held herself from saying for weeks heavier than ever. This was it, the time it needed to happen, but her lip was already trembling. She’d convinced herself, or rather tried to, that the sadness from this decision would be minor. It would only be temporary, and that was what she clung to. This would help them, give their minds time apart to sort out that one part in either of them that didn’t braid together neatly like everything else. 

Nick stood, witnessing the sudden shift from fury to heartache. 

“Callie- why are you crying?” he asked tenderly, crossing the room quickly to hold her face. 

_Don’t fucking do that_. 

A breath meant to steady herself shook in a similar fashion to her fists clenched at her sides. 

“Nick we need to take a break,” she wept. 

Was that the face he made when he realized he had been left alone in a restaurant? Or the one when he received every rejection letter before he’d at last been accepted into the police academy? His hands dropped, like he’d suddenly realized he’d grabbed the face of someone else he didn’t actually know. 

“Why? Why?” he asked. 

_What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck-_

She wiped her face. “Because you’re not you anymore- you told me you didn’t care about what anyone says about us and now it’s all you care about,”

“I don’t care unless they’re targeting you!” he defended, jabbing his hands in her direction. 

“It’s just a break, okay? It’s not a permanent thing-”

“Bullshit, breaks always leads to breakups,” he wavered, pacing back and forth. 

“Only if you let them!” _Maybe this was a mistake_ \- maybe she had said the wrong thing. 

“Just end it if you’re over it Callie, I’m not... I don’t do breaks,” 

He wouldn’t look at her; he couldn’t. Seeing the absolution in her decision would be what brought him down. 

Wide eyes watched him, looking for anything that showed they could fix this, but that meant fixing everything they’d shoved aside. All their fights were suddenly laid before them. The mountain neither of them could climb. 

“I don’t wanna break up,” she whimpered. "It's just _temporary_ , baby,"

“Then what is this? This is ending!” he hollered. Callie flinched, and all so fast the sadness swirling in her gut was rage. 

“Fine- it’s fucking over! Get the fuck out if you’re not even gonna try!” she yelled, pushing harshly against his chest.

_Wait._

“Callie-”

“Go! Get the fuck out of here!” she was blinded by the tears in her eyes. 

_This can’t be happening_. 

“Cal-”

“I said **LEAVE**!” she screamed, heaving, her nails digging into her palms. 

He stumbled backwards, wanting nothing more to grab her shoulders and scream at her he wouldn't leave her, but he couldn't even begin to recognize the mental state she was in. Those big loving eyes were just... was it despair, or rage? What long dormant pain had just erupted in her? He almost forgot his keys that hung beside hers after he’d backed up, then turned towards her door. Nick left silently, listening, hoping for her to stop him and run back into his arms in a sobbing mess, but he only heard her door slam behind him when he was halfway down the stairs. 

That crushing sense of sadness he expected to swarm him earlier was suddenly there without warning, digging into his bones, making itself comfortable. 

Callie turned, holding her palms over her eyes, whimpering. 

_I need to go to my room_. 

She marched with determination, but she’d just stepped into her hallway when the same heartbreak lept into her body, stopping her. It buckled her knees, and dropped her face into her hands as her shoulder hit the wall, sliding down. Callie sobbed, questioning what had just happened, but there’d be no answers. 

Nick wouldn’t be here with open arms to crawl to. 

His heart hammered in his chest.

Every ‘I love you’ felt unappreciated. All the moments together he suddenly couldn’t recall clearly, but reached desperately for, were a blur. 

He hid his face in his hands, sitting behind the wheel of his car. 

He didn’t want to leave. 

 

So many times that night, she looked at her phone, hoping somehow she’d missed the alert of a message or call. So many times, her thumb hovered over his contact, yearning to call, but she’d stop. It didn’t seem possible that this had happened, but if not, then what else was that? 

Her eyes were swollen and dry, even with tears still leaking occasionally down her cheeks. 

She slept on her couch that night, with the kitchen light illuminating her home just the slightest bit. Maybe she’d try and bag any clothes or items he’d left there, but simply thinking of that was enough to aggravate the raw hole blasted through her heart. There was no part of her that was ready to leave him behind.

Nick stared at his garden, namely the sleek bell peppers that hung in the cold air. The ones he’s planned to give to her in just a few days time. 

He left his phone inside, figuring if she hadn’t called by now, she wouldn’t, after he’d been tempted far too many times to call and scream his apologies. But the memory of her face… when she screamed at him- it was branded behind his eyes. 

_She hates me_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> abruptly short chapter for an abrupt..... ending? 
> 
> won't be uploading next week; need to catch up on the last of the chapters for this story and also for added effect   
> please don't hate me cause i _looooooooooove_ all of you that have read, commented, kudoed and bookmarked!  <3


	9. Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, welcome back after the small hiatus! thanks to everyone who has left such kind words, in depth comments, and just showed general interest in this little story of mine, both on here and tumblr! i love you all, and you all keep me motivated to keep writing 😊

It was cold, even with a blanket draped over his shoulders, but the cold couldn't confine him to his empty house. Often in the two weeks that passed, he’d find himself somehow wandering into his backyard, sitting, staring at the bell peppers that were wrinkling the longer they frosted. And it was in those two weeks that he noticed he had picked up a particular habit of hers.

Often as he stared, lost in the strange fog that had become his thoughts, he’d bounce his leg. It made him impatient, but for what? He gave up expecting her call after the first few days, the likes of those days having been such agony. 

He woke up the day after feeling like he’d ran for miles, but that hurt just… stayed. 

It felt like he forgot a piece of himself at home when he didn’t contact her. He couldn’t think. His appetite was absent. He didn’t hear people speaking around him. 

All the food she’d made at his home dwindled too quickly, and his fridge became barren, takeout containers eventually filling the space. 

Ward knew it the first day he saw it. The chatterbox he knew Nick to be was silent, and he couldn’t recall seeing his phone in his hand like it used to be. The orc no longer showed him photos of his favorite person, or spoke of the plans they'd made. Ward knew, but said nothing, even when they’d pass the liquor store. 

When those 2 weeks came up like a cruel reminder, Nick was adjusted. He worked, ate, and slept. He kept busy at work, the TV on at home, and downed Melatonin at night so there wasn’t spare minutes to sit and think of her. He already missed her so fucking much when he was busy, that he knew he wouldn’t be able to withstand facing the monster sitting on his shoulders during his alone time. 

Sometimes he’d come as close as parking a few store lengths from the liquor store, so close to walking in, but as long as he decided against just asking her to talk, maybe start like they first did, he’d keep coming back to his backyard. 

_“I’d grow tea leaves, and tomatoes, maybe some potatoes,” she pondered, her big eyes squinted in thought._

_“Tea leaves?” he asked, his shoulder leaning against the tall windows of the store._

_“For my mom- she uses them to cook,” Callie explained, earning a thoughtful frown from him._

_“Never even heard of them,”_

_“Oh yeah, I can imagine a seasoned farmer like you grows square watermelon and asparagus or something,”_

_He snorted, rolling sideways. “Carrots and lettuce, you brat. Been thinking of trying bell peppers,”_

_“I love bell peppers,” she sighed, resting her head back. Too bad they were in public- he craved to drag his tongue up her slender neck, taste the sweat he could see lining her chest from the blistering sun._

_“Oh yeah?” he asked, and she nodded, equally captivated by the muscle of his shoulders she wanted to hang off of as she bounced in his lap. His head lolled towards her a little when she stepped closer, her chin bumping his shoulder._

_“I’ll bring you a truck load,” he mumbled, lost in her freckles of her cheeks and honey skin, wanting nothing more than to nibble that plump bottom lip of hers._

_“I’m gonna hold you to it, Nick. You come here too often for snacks to avoid me now,”_

_Above all, he wanted to hear her scream his name in pure desperation, begging for release._

_“I come here for you, dummy,” he confessed, his wrist hung off one of the many items clipped to his belt. Callie’s smile was brighter than a sunrise, and he couldn't resist bending his wrist back to bump his knuckles against her flushed cheeks. Until she rested her forehead on his arm did they gaze at one another, both hiding their covet._

Nick grunted when he stood, tired from a day of absolute shit and barely the energy to bother buying food on his way home. It still sat on his counter, cold by now. He passed it on his way into the kitchen, instead grabbing for the bottle of Melatonin. That was all he could handle that night. 

 

Callie didn’t sleep in her bed. 

The coffee stand before her couch became the spot that held everything familiar, and comfortable. 

Her phone, bag, some snacks, the remotes, even a few sweaters. 

She slept her free days away, curled into the cushions and hiding from the daylight when a panic attack would hold her hostage in her own living room. 

At work, she carried on. She was good at putting on the mask she needed to keep everyone out of her life, but not even music helped ease the ache that followed into her dreams. 

When she stretched her arms above her head before the tall mirrors in the studio, her muscles protested. She thought dancing would help, but she couldn’t even find the energy to stand and twirl. Even slipping on her tights were too much of a chore; required too much energy she’d rather exhaust stuffing her legs into sweats and sleeping.

The light in her heart had dimmed. 

She wondered why he didn’t stop by her store anymore. 

She questioned why he didn’t call her, but in turn would ask herself why _she_ hadn’t called him.

She was so exhausted, but sleep couldn’t fix this no matter how many hours she clocked. 

She thought 2 weeks was enough time to pass for some kind of normality to come back into her days, but after Nick… 

How do you get over someone, after being so in love with them? 

When the slightest of energy crept into her limbs, and the yearn for relief pushed her to slide her hand beneath the band of her underwear, her mind drifted to Nick. 

Wide shoulders shadowing her writhing form beneath, her knees to her chest, her hands upon his face as he'd kiss her, their breaths and moans intermingling. The steady rhythm of his narrow hips slamming between her thighs, over, and over, and over again until-

_“We’re gonna get caught- ugh,” he tried to stop her, but she was so fucking good at this, even without the seat reclined. Maybe his fingertips digging into her gyrating hips was his attempt at stopping her, but it didn’t hinder her in any way. She figured he’d stop protesting when he hooked a thumb around her panties to keep them aside, marveling down at her pussy that graciously took his glazed dick, over and over._

_“No one comes back here,” she panted, mewling when he straightened his hips, his dick sliding stiffer into her._

_“Is that a pun?” he asked, smiling lazily up at her with half lidded eyes. She laughed, kissing him lovingly as his fingers tangled in her dark locks all around them, the police cruiser shaking in the dark of the alley behind her store._

She chased the fantasy that was once reality, but could never hold it close enough to keep it’s warmth from being blown out. 

Her high was empty. Loneliness only reared its face soon after. She'd lay in the dark, deflated, the fight in her drained until sleep finally pulled her under, only after she allowed herself to accept this was her life again.

* * *

Callie knew better than this. 

Even if her emotional state had been compromised during the passing weeks, that didn’t mean her common fucking sense had been. 

But Ashely’s words had rang in her head: _“Closure isn’t real- just cut you hair and move on.”_

It had turned into 2 days of staring at her long hair in the mirror, suddenly aware of the weight, and the nuisance it had become brushing after sleeping so much. Where she had enjoyed running her fingers through her thick tresses, all she noticed now was how often it tangled. 

Maybe a little extra weight off my shoulders would be nice. 

_**Wrong**_. Rosie told her she’d regret it. Changes like this had no business being decided upon during the healing process.

But it was too late. She’d watched in silent horror as the stylist cut the ponytail from her head, the crunching of the strands between the blades of the scissors making her cringe, and after forty-five minutes of withholding screams to stop, she was left with hair above her shoulders, now thick curls that bounced around her ears like Rosie's without the weight holding them down. 

She kept looking in the reflection of her phone while she watched TV, but would groan every time. 

Still, she couldn’t help but wonder, would Nick like it?

* * *

The idea had shown through the clouds that fogged his thoughts a few days prior to deciding to ask Ward for his opinion on the matter. Whereas he hadn’t been able to form much of a coherent thought before then, this one manifested ever so clearly. It was his _aha!_ idea that kept him from grabbing the Melatonin the night before, at last content with his own company. 

He wanted- _had_ to speak with Callie. Even if she still hated him, he had to tie up the loose ends. He couldn’t keep rethinking those last minutes together, and all the what-ifs. They were over- he groaned silently to himself- but he felt he’d left so much of himself behind with her that he needed back. If he was to truly get over her, no matter how badly he just wanted to collect her in his arms and smother her with adoration and apologies, he needed this reconciled. 

“Hey Ward!” Nick called, jogging after his partner as he walked tiredly to the rig. 

“What’s up?” Daryl replied, surprised that Jakoby seemed… not like a soulless husk, that afternoon. 

“I need your advice on something,” Nick inquired, walking beside him. “It's about Callie,”

“Mhm?”

“We… split,” that was like swallowing glass. “But it ended so… it was so chaotic that I feel like it wasn’t really even a break up? It was like a fight we both haven’t gotten over, like shit is still there waiting to be talked about again,”

“Mhm,” 

“I wanna call her, not to try and get back together even though I _do_ \- I just feel like I can’t even begin to get over her as long as all of that is still there,” Nick struggled to explain, his hands moving around. 

“You two haven’t talked since?” 

The Orc shook his head. 

“You think you’ll be satisfied and ready to move on if you just clear the air?” Ward asked. 

Nick ran his tongue over his clipped tusks, thinking critically. “Not really,”

“Then don’t go there deciding you just want to work out the stuff that happened. Work on the shit that’s happening,”

“What if she doesn’t want to?”

“You ain’t gonna know unless you start talking,” 

“But we fought because of shit that happened-”

“Just-” Ward raised his hand to stop him. “Start talking. You can’t plan anything after that cause you don’t know what’ll happen until you just start talking.” 

Nick flipped that around in his head, over and over, hours and hours. It dawned on him that all this time he’d desired to be with her again, but never considered trying to do so. It scared him. Thinking of what else she’d scream at him if he said something wrong. It scared him thinking of baring his soul for a second time. Could things ever go back to how they used to be? 

What was better- a new, possibly strained relationship, or the memory of one that was in every sense to him, perfect?

All these questions, but Ward was right. They just had to start talking. 

But not over text. Oh no. He put his phone away, realizing this conversation was better to hear in voice no matter how he itched to message her, but he didn’t want any emotions mis-communicated. Then maybe in person would be better? Would she give him the time to meet up? Of course she would; he knew his Callie girl. 

To see her again… the tempo of his heart increased. 

The rest of his shift, he’d thought over what he could say. Every apology, every promise to never take what they had for granted. Anything to hear those words from her again:

_I love you, Nick._

No love had dissipated. It sometimes drove him to madness, wondering if he showed up at her door, with his heart held in his hands to return it to her, if she would let him in again. 

He would wait until he was home. 

He would call her, and ask if she would meet him so they could talk, and until she agreed to that, he would bridle his wildest fantasies. As he drove home, a familiar song drifted through the speakers. Nick hadn’t had the gall to listen to it since it all happened, but hearing it now rekindled warmth.

Their song she’d play while they cleaned, or cooked, sometimes as they drove to the store. The one she’d hold his face to, mouthing the words lovingly as he held her sides with a grin, sometimes pulling him with to dance. Hearing her sing those words close to his ear would calm any torment in his heart. 

_“Mm, keep going,” he insisted, his mouth muffled against her shoulder and his arms loose around her waist._

_“I sound like a cow in misery,”_

_“You're my cow in misery. Keep goin’,” he said again, sighing contentedly with her warm body against his in his chilled house that hadn't yet warmed since arriving home. She scoffed, but stroked the back of his neck, ambling in slow circles with his big body leaned on hers._

_“I need your love, honey, yeah. I need your love…”_

“Crazy, crazy, crazy for your baby.” he crooned softly. 

By the time he was home, night had fallen over LA. He could hear the distant call of a wintertide dragon, probably circling one of the summits nearby. Daylight savings seemed to stir them, but he could never figure out why a simple hour change would. 

He had it all planned out as he stepped from his truck. He knew what to say, where to ask her to-

A hand over his mouth sent him into a frenzy. Before he could flail his arms, others were holding them. Strong grips from strong arms, connected to lumbering shadows that surrounded him. They dragged him effortlessly to the front of his truck, kicking open the gate to his backyard despite his muffled shouts and wild efforts to free himself. 

As soon as they dropped him, crushing blows from steel toed boots kicked the wind from him, squandering his chance to shout for help. 

Where one part of his body would retract, another kick would fly into him, from every direction, hitting every measure of his body. 

He felt his ribs crack after the third or fourth hit, and the cold impact of a metal pipe against his knee. 

His skull bounced off the ground with every impact of their fists against his head. His hands rose to try and stop them, but his fingers snapped back in a sickening crunch when they swung past it. 

Curling into a ball did nothing. The kicks against his back rang in his kidneys, and that was when he managed to holler, but a boot on his face smothered him. 

The pain, the raw agony of it, was drowning him. 

_Pass out, pass out, pass out-_

Coppery blood filled his mouth, invading his sinuses. He choked, blinded by red when he tried to look at the dark figures around him. 

Everything hurt. It all stung. Things burned. 

And it felt like hours before they stopped. 

He gargled past the blood, but only one eye worked. His head throbbed, and he wondered if his brain was swelling out of his ears. 

A pale hand in the night grabbed his shirt and yanked up, but Nick was too heavy for him to lift. 

“Orcs don’t belong with humans.” It hissed, but Nick’s vision was so blurred, all he saw were shapes and dark colors. When the figure spat on his face, it stung in the open cuts. 

But those words hit him harder than anything. 

**Callie.**

“D-don’ch fuckin’ touch’er!” he slurred, barely. He could feel the chips of a tooth lodged in his inner cheek, open and raw from his own fangs. 

But the final blow of the metal pipe cracked against his skull sent him under. Into a world of black, and numb.

* * *

Ward thought it peculiar to not see Nick sat at the table in the briefing room, but brushed it off. 

He figured he had a long night after he said he was planning on calling Callie. 

_Fucking finally_ , Daryl thought. Nick was like an abandoned puppy when he was sad, and he didn’t know how much more of the moping he could stand, or extra attention he felt he needed to give him even if his partner remained silent.

But as the last minutes ticked by, and he didn’t show up, Ward started to scan the room. When Nick had first joined the precinct, he’d made the mistake of waiting in the wrong room a few times, but that hadn’t happened since.

“Sit down, sit down and shut up, you assholes,” Heig announced, walking into the room that transitioned into a calm silence as he took the podium. 

Their captain went about their announcements, but Daryl couldn’t stop staring at the door. 

Never had Nick missed morning briefing. In the year he’d been here, he hadn’t even been late. If he took 10 seconds longer at the vending machine than intended, he’d text Ward. 

He tensed his shoulder blade muscles to alleviate the discomfort. He could feel something poking the back of his head, aggravating his calm exterior. 

Officers started to rise as their routes were announced. He still hoped Nick would walk in before their names were called- 

“Three-Adam-Nine, Jakoby and- Ward… where the fuck is the Orc?” Heig asked over the commotion, looking at Daryl as he rose. 

“I’m assuming he excused himself for the day?” Ward asked, approaching him. 

“He fucking did not,” Heig muttered, flipping a few papers. “Rebecca never misses an absence call. Go find him, he’s probably wandering around somewhere.” 

“Sir.” Ward acknowledged, leaving the room. 

He checked everywhere. All the corners he would find Nick in when he was gloomy, and his favorite spot in the cafeteria, nor was he at the kit room or cruiser once the building had been cleared. Texts had gone unanswered as he swept the parking lot, even a phone call. 

“Where’s your pet, Ward?”

Daryl turned, already knowing it was Gerrald, and met his passing sneer. 

“Fuck off, pussy.” 

He still chuckled as he passed, entering the building to leave Ward at the hood of the SUV. There were no carry-over calls to answer to, and as long as he could pass by Nick’s house quickly, he should be able to stay under the radar of his captain long enough to find out where the fuck Nick had up and disappeared to. 

He continued to phone him, hopeful he’d answer before he finished the drive across town. Only voicemail. 

“Nick pick up your fucking phone. Even if you and Callie ran off to Vegas at least tell me so Heig don’t fuck us both over.” he said angrily, ending the call. 

He probably wouldn’t have been too pissed after the 30 minutes drive if his truck hadn’t been in his driveway, but he could only assume he was inside sleeping or something when he saw it parked there. 

“Gonna fuck him up.” Ward said between clenched teeth, parking the cruiser quickly along the street and slamming the door behind him. 

“Jakoby!” he shouted. Maybe if he was with Callie he’d startled them into never pulling this shit again. 

But when he rounded the tail of the truck, he saw the open drivers side door, and the keys on the ground beside the wheel. 

Everything stopped. 

He didn’t pull his gun, but he did unclasp the strap. 

“Nick?” he called, easing up on the open door and looking in. Nothing there except for Nick’s bag in the driver's seat. He backed up, scanning all his sides, looking for anything on the ground that might’ve been left behind. But who the fuck would kidnap him? 

Or maybe he could’ve left somewhere in a rush? 

He looked at the house, but it looked dormant. Why wouldn’t he take his keys in-

The ajar gate of the backyard fence caught him, and then the soul of a booted foot he could see behind the gate. A police issued boot. 

Ward drew his gun, gliding over the ground with his shoulders pulled in until he was pressed against the tall fencing. He spun, taking both his sides, skimming the wide backyard for anyone, until he finally stepped around Nick’s motionless body. 

“Nick! Nick? Jakoby?” Ward exclaimed, kneeling beside his partner. 

No answer. 

He checked his pulse; his rough skin was cold, but he thought he could feel the faintest trace of a heartbeat. 

“Nick!” Ward yelled again, examining the extreme swelling and blood coating the Orcs face. He stood, his back against the wall of the house and his eyes stayed moving as he turned to his shoulder walkie

“Three-Adam-Nine, Code 3- I have an officer down and unresponsive. I need EMT in route immediately at 2217 Tildot Avenue. Code 999 for Officer Jakoby.” he broadcasted, kneeling by Nick again. 

“Nick? Nick you gotta stay with me if you’re still there,” he demanded, shaking his shoulder. 

There was nothing left of the Orc to be deemed alive, from what he could see. Cuts, mangled clothing- his middle and ring finger of his left hand bent back at an extreme angle, and blood. There was so much blood on and around him that it led Ward to assume he’d been here for hours, maybe all night. 

“Jakoby c’mon,” he said again, and cleared his throat when his voice wavered. 

“Three-Adam-Nine I need medical assistance now!” he shouted into the walkie. 

He stayed by Nick’s side until he heard the sirens approaching, and left to the sidewalk to wave them down, pointing them in the direction of his fallen partner with his gun still gripped in his palm. More officers arrived, including their captain, who had enough heart to keep the snide comments to himself as he questioned Daryl. 

It was clear Nick had been ambushed once everything was put together, but motive was unclear. His phone was near him and his wallet was still in his pocket, and they could’ve easily taken off with his truck but chose not to. 

“Another Orc maybe. One man couldn’t do this, maybe if he was his equal size, but not alone,” Heig commented, jotting it down on the report. “He have enemies?”

_Anyone the Fogteeth rivaled would be an enemy_ , Ward pondered, but shook his held. Amongst humans, his blooding was still unknown for the most part. 

“We have forensics dusting and looking, so we’ll have a better idea of what happened when they’re done. You filled out your witness report?”

“Yes sir,” Ward replied, watching Nick being carted away on the gurney and into the rig. Barely stable, still unconscious. _As long as he wasn’t being taken away in a black bag._

“Does he have family? Significant other?”

“I believe so,”

“Contact them. He’s going to LAC. Good work, Ward.” Heig finished, giving his arm a couple steady pats. 

_Good work?_

Daryl watched them close the doors to the rig, and looked at the soul of Nick’s boot before he was hidden. He was handed Nick’s phone and keys in a ziploc, but realized there’d be no way of guessing his passcode, or knowing where his parents lived. 

But he knew where Callie was. 

↠

“It’s cute!”

“It’s not,” Callie groaned, smoothing her hands down her short hair. 

“Okay but doesn’t it feel better?” Ashely smiled. 

Callie glared, shaking her head slowly with a frown. “It’s like I amputated a limb,” she mumbled. 

“Oh my god, drama, you’ll get used to it,” Ashely said as Callie moved to the back of the store. 

“I hate it!” 

The blonde chuckled and returned to organizing the front rows of candies where people deposited second guessed items when they made it to the register, tossing the randoms into the box under her arm.

“You can try wearing it up? Or dyeing it…” Ashely trailed off when the sirens she’d heard down the street were suddenly blaring through the front doors. The cruiser stopped abruptly outside, and Ashely looked at Callie who had come back from the office, a clipboard and label maker in hand. 

When Ward rounded the front and sped in, she tightened her hold on the clipboard. It only took a moment to scan and find her, but Callie was looking behind him, waiting for Nick to follow in, but he never did. 

“Is it…?” she breathed, unable to finish. She couldn’t finish that. 

_Please god no._

“He’s alive, but you need to come with me.” He labored.

“Alive-” she gasped, already panicked.

_What had he survived!?_

Ashely was already taking the items from her arms and switching with Callie’s bag, telling her she’d inform her Uncle. Confusion, and immense dread swarmed her eyes before she followed Ward out, the two climbing into the cruiser with lights and sirens starting up before speeding away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't kill me 🙃


	10. Stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm gonna be inconceivably busy tomorrow so i decided to upload a day early n_n enjoy, my loves! 🖤

The silence was at first welcome. 

The lack of voices asking to recite his name, telling him where they would poke and stitch next. 

The soft hissing of the IV pump where he could feel the lead of a catheter taped in the back of his hand, the soft beeping of the pressure cuff around his arm. 

He started to recognize where all the pain was coming from. His bandaged hand was sore, but the throbbing in his skull challenged the misery of his knee he felt propped up on pillows, the chill of an ice pack beneath. 

The shades were drawn, and he was thankful when he started to open his eyes-

_Fuck_ , the brow above his left eye stung something fierce. When his hand rose to touch the stitches there and on his cheek, a small pump fell from his grasp. 

The resonating throb in his ribs was great when he’d take in the sterile smells surrounding, as was the sensitivity in his stomach that couldn’t tighten without great agony. 

The insides of his cheeks were raw. 

There was no spot on him without pain he could concentrate on without another part demanding his attention. 

Everything was hurt, and weak, yet he could recall everything. 

That first time jolting awake, and the intimidating bustling of faces and hands around him, and lights flashing in his eyes as they triaged him. That’s what felt like forever- the waiting to be put under, or given something to feel less misery. He remembered barely being able to talk, and slurring for relief, sometimes grasping weakly at hands that touched something tender. 

Fuck, he’d even _cried_ , and begged to be left alone. All of which was probably completely indiscernible to the people helping him.

It wasn’t until after he was gowned and stabilized that they gave him something that heavied his eyes instantly, and let him float between consciousness and peace as he laid in the whirring machine of the MRI. Between then and when he got a room, it was quiet. Maybe the occasional of other nurses and doctors chatting through the hallways when he was wheeled around, but nothing louder than a sobbing prayer he’d heard someone reciting.

Quiet, and calm, even when nurses came in to check on him. 

But he always took a few moments to acclimate, and remember, that he was viciously attacked in front of his own home, left alone all night. Recalling his attempts at calling out to anyone, but choking on spit and blood, and shivering in the cold. 

He stopped moving his legs between the cool sheets; even that was too much. 

_Orcs don’t belong with humans._

Callie. 

He struggled to look around for anything of his, but saw nothing behind the blurred sight of his one eye. Everything protested when he attempted sitting up. He stifled loud cries as pain spasmed through his form. 

_Callie. Please let her be okay._

He licked his dry lips, feeling the gash across the top, and closed his eyes to hide from the images that flashed before them. 

With his head rested back on the pillows more comfortably, he pressed the button of the pump in his fist, the pain lessening ever so slightly. 

↠

She held the heel of her palms against her temples, the onslaught of images brandishing her mind. Her cheeks were misty from tears, listening to Ward explain what they thought had happened, and how he’d found Nick that morning. That when he’d last seen him being taken away, he was still unresponsive. 

_How-_

_Why-_

_What if he’s…_

She hid her face, her eyes pinching shut. _No. You can’t think that way. Stop it._

“He was there all night?” she choked, wiping her face inattentively. 

“We think. Blood on 'n around him was dried and some of the cuts on him were scabbing,” Ward answered, turning onto the winding lane that lead to the hospital. 

“Oh my god,” she whimpered. 

The cruiser silenced as it pulled before the entrance. 

“This is his,” Ward spoke, handing her Nick’s phone and keys. She fought the tremble in her chin and lip as she looked at the blood on the screen, and the messy smears over the print reader. 

_He’d tried to call for help._

“Call and tell me if he’s okay,” Ward also said. The worried furrow of his brow gave away his fear, even if his voice was certain and steady. She nodded, wiping her eyes again before exiting the cruiser. 

Her knees betrayed her sure footing, but she was infinitely horrified to walk in and be told he’d passed. It took her too long to find the front desk which was right in the middle of the vast room, but it was because she was looking for _him_ right away. 

_The last thing I said to him was leave._

She banged her knee against the front desk once there, her hands unsure of where to rest. 

“I’m looking for Jakoby? Nick- Officer Nick Jakoby,” she stammered, clearing her throat, pushing her hair from her clammy cheeks. 

The receptionist scanned her computer, squinting. Callie’s leg started bouncing, watching the younger woman with wide eyes. 

“Jakoby?” the woman asked. 

“Nick Jakoby,” 

“Hmm, when was he admitted?” 

“This morning I don’t know what time,” Callie rushed, starting to tremble. 

_I told him to get the fuck out._

She still squinted at the screen. It took all her control to not spin the monitor and look herself. 

_I should’ve called him, I should’ve just fucking called him._

“J- A- C?”

_You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me-_

“J- A- K,” Callie barked. Any tighter, and her hands could’ve snapped Nick’s phone in her grasp. 

“Ahh, there he is,” the woman smiled, and Callie exhaled, a few shades lighter and sweat lining her brow. “He’s in the neuro wing under observation. Fourth floor, room 407, and you need to sign in for a visitor sticker.” the woman explained, handing Callie the clipboard as they exchanged for her ID. 

Her handwriting was worse than usual; her hands shook uncontrollably. 

Every floor higher became quieter in the elevator. She stayed at the back, watching people file in and out until she made it to the fourth floor, checking her sides for room numbers before walking down the marble floor.

She wasn’t ready to see how he looked. 

_‘Half his face was cut up and open, ‘nd there was other spots all over him.’_

It was too silent, and on almost all of the doors she passed, there were signs reminding visitors to remain quiet for patients in healing. 

His room was just around the curve of a hallway. Why couldn’t she pull her eyes from the tag spelling his name beside the door? 

She had to turn away, moving her hair back from her face and steadying her hiccuping breaths. Her legs did not feel like her own in their unsteady gait, and even though her entire body felt a wrong turn away from fainting, she turned back, and opened the door. 

 

Nick expected another nurse, so he kept his eyes closed, figuring if he could pretend to be asleep they’d leave him be. 

But then, familiarity bloomed around him. Warm, spiced vanilla that made his nostrils flare and skin erupt with shivers. 

_That’s my mate._

He would know this in a room full of people that were her exact copy. 

Even with… that haircut he could finally see once the film had been blinked from his vision, he’d know that was her. Eyes wide and glossy, supple mouth agape in horror, and knuckles white from gripping her purse tightly in front of herself. 

It was a powerful, complex swarm of emotions and thoughts, and memories. But even when his heart reaffirmed that she had left him, all he could think was, _there’s my girl._

“Daryl- Daryl came to get me he told me what happened,” she took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, I can leave if you want,” she hiccupped, a palm over her mouth. 

It wasn’t as bad as she’d envisioned, but it was also worse than she expected.

“I-” he tried, but his throat and tongue scraped like sandpaper. He coughed viciously, curling inwards around the agony of his protesting body every time he jerked forward. 

Callie was at his side, inclining his bed and pouring him water when he finally calmed. 

His hand overlapped hers when he held the cup, both of their hands trembling. 

“I was worried about you,” he managed, his voice courser than normal. Her face scrunched. 

“What?” She sat beside him. The closer she came, the more she saw. Gouges, stitches, bruises.

“The people that attacked me, the things they said- I thought they’d go after you but I’m glad they didn’t,” he said slowly, swallowing often. She gave him more water, looking at him silently. “Y’know,” he winced when he adjusted his back against the bed. “I thought it was your cousins at first,” he teased, the smallest grin tugging the corner of his mouth. Callie shook her head, a sad smile spreading across her face.

The cold sheets didn’t bother him so much suddenly. Her small, warm palms that could never cover his wide hands were such a soothing sensation as she caressed, stilling his fingers that plucked at the bedding. 

“What happened, Nick?” 

That question clearly tormented her as severely as him, but he could only shake his head. “Someone got tired of me,” he rasped. 

Her face scrunched in torment, and his heart was breaking all over again. 

_Why like this?_

“Your hair is gone,” he cleared his throat, wanting to talk about anything else. 

When she scoffed, he grinned, sorely, the cuts on his lips stinging. 

“I hate it,” she sniffled, looking down at his hand she was running her thumbs over. 

Nick blew air, and she looked back at him. “You look really pretty,”

They both searched one another's eyes, desperate for something to make sense of this situation. There they were, before each other again, profoundly changed, yet he still could recognize the deep compassion in those balmy eyes. The memory he’d fought to forget, but the one that would loop in his mind endlessly was her crying, screaming for him to leave. Yet here she was, again, _always_. 

“What can I do?” she asked softly. 

“Stay with me a little while?” he tried to sound leveled, but the underlying desperation in his voice was obvious. _Please don’t leave me alone._

She nodded, kissing his knuckles, pressing the back of his hand against her cheek. “Always, amore. Always.” 

Dread left him in the wake of her words. Until then, he hadn’t been aware to the fear that settled around him like a fog, lying in wait for his attackers to finish what they'd started. 

But his girl; the woman who in all senses was no longer his, but he could still pick up the slightest traces of himself on from just that arm's length, was calming his fluttering heart. With Callie here, she was the hand he wanted to hold in safety, and comfort. A sleepy contentedness pulled over him like the warm wash of a shower on a cold day, and his eyes started to heavy. 

She didn’t jostle him when he started to drift off. Glimpses over him made it easy to put together how uncomfortable he must’ve been. The swelling and bruises, and cuts on his face were one thing, but how did the rest of him look? 

“Who did this to you, baby?” she whispered. She traced his arm, looking at the other hand that was splinted and wrapped, following down to his knee that was twice it’s normal size. Callie exhaled. 

With another kiss on his hand, she stood to grab her bag. 

Outside his room, she breathed. Deep ones that should’ve calmed her fearfulness, but it wouldn’t be so simple. She was left with more questions than answers, and realizations she didn’t think she’d ever be admitting to. 

Nick had been right. _It could always get worse_ , he’d told her so many times. Someone would eventually act on their hate, and they did. 

Callie scoffed, finding Ward’s name in her phone. She’d never tell Nick that. She could just see that little smirk, and the way his brows would raise as he’d stare at her, waiting for an apology, even in his damaged state. 

“Hello?” he picked up quickly, and she blinked out of her daze.

“Hey- hi, it’s me. He’s okay,” 

Daryl contained the audible sigh of relief, but still held a hand over his heart, thankful this hadn’t been the call reporting his partners demise. Hidden behind his cruiser, he leaned a hand onto his knee, suddenly conscious to how clutched he’d been for Nick’s well being.

“He’s really banged up, but he’s talking and can kind of sit up,” she explained. “I don’t know how long he’s going to be here though, he fell back asleep before we could really get into details,”

“It’s gonna take time. He looked…” Ward swallowed. “It was fucked up. Who ever did that is fucked in the head,”

“Is there any leads, or… clues yet? I don’t know how this works outside of TV,” she asked. 

“Haven’t heard back yet, but I’ll tell you what happens. I’m sure his stubborn ass is gonna wanna figure it out himself once he’s able,”

Callie scoffed, but then went to kneading her bottom lip. “Nick is strong, Daryl. It had to be more than one person,”

Ward sighed. “I know, which makes it trickier,”

She wiped fresh tears from her eyes, pulling the phone away from her cheek to sniffle and cough. “Keep me updated about it please and I’ll tell Nick to call when he can, yeah?” she asked. 

“For sure. Take care of him.”

“I will.”

The call ended, but then there was the other matter to tend to. She’d left work abruptly, and ignored a called from her uncle on her way to the hospital. Rolling her head back and adjusting her shoulders didn’t help the edginess of her body when thinking of dealing with it.

She leaned away from the phone at first, waving it in her hands before only leaning her head towards it’s screen as it rang. To her dismay, he also answered quickly. 

“Calista? Calista are you there- where did you go?”

“There was an emergency Tio-”

“With who? Your mother? Who was it?” She didn’t think he’d be sent into a blind panic by her abrupt departure. 

“No, for a friend. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything but I had to go,”

Though it was silent, she could almost hear the pieces fitting together in his head. He hadn’t been oblivious to Callie’s demeanor in the passing weeks, and the sudden absence of her cop boyfriend who no longer stopped by.

“So you’ll be coming back later to finish your shift?” he asked, flatly. 

She looked at her feet. “I need some time off,”

A pause, and she wished she would have texted instead. “I can give you the rest of the day,”

Callie sighed, closing her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I need more than that. He’s in really bad shape,”

“Let his family do it. I don’t have the money for a paid vacation,”

“This is _nothing_ close to a vacation,”

“Either way, I can’t do it,” he replied. She only had fleeting seconds to make this decision, but where her mind landed was still uncertain. 

“Than I guess today was my last day,” she cleared her throat, her head rested back against the wall, staring angrily at a dull painting across the hall. Her uncle exhaled heavily. 

“This is a mistake, Callie. Let someone else take care of him. You’re not his girlfriend anymore,”

_That's irrelevant_ , but she knew if she said it, it wouldn’t make any difference. He’d hear it, but would believe what was already assumed. This was about being there for him, when the world finally managed to beat him into the ground. 

“I’ll pick up my last paycheck later.” she finished with, fumbling to end the call when she heard him asking something else. 

It had only been a little under an hour since the day plunged into hell. Now she was jobless. Even though she’d started the process of applying to other places a while ago, she didn’t want it left messy like this. Word would spread. Her family would find out, and they would eventually call. 

It might’ve been silly to do so, but she silenced her phone until she knew she could answer their questions; that this wasn’t about being in love.

But if not, then what else?

_Loyalty? Because they were friends? ‘Friends’ who hadn’t spoken in weeks, and stopped talking over a blistering fight-_

Callie shook away the intrusive thoughts.

She had now what she was left with, and that’s where she would start. 

↠

Did she get enough? _Maybe too much?_ She had no idea how long he was going to be here, but knew- _hoped_ his insatiable appetite would kick in eventually. 

Callie looked down at the two bags of snacks she’d filled from the cafeteria, all of it things that he liked, but she wasn’t so sure about the few bottles of green tea Nakeds she’d chosen. With her eyes on the bottle, observing the finer print, she didn’t see the doctor at the foot of Nick’s bed until she was in the room. 

“Oh,” she squeaked, looking at Nick who appeared to have just woken up. “Sorry- I’ll wait outside,”

“No, c’mere,” Nick grumbled groggily, motioning her over. 

“Are you sure?” she asked lowly, placing the bags down before moving to his side. 

“Afternoon,” the middle-aged woman said, grinning at Callie as she stood by Nick. “I was just formally introducing myself to Mr. Jakoby here. We didn’t really get a chance to meet when you first came in, but I was the Attending that triaged you this morning when you came in. I’m Margaret Voelker,” 

“Were you the one that kept stabbing my hands with sharp stuff?” Nick croaked, and his doctor chuckled. 

“Could’ve been in a coma, had to make sure,” she smiled. Nick ‘hmphed’, shifting his shoulders. 

“Good that you’re up and talking already, and you passed the assessment with flying colors,”

“Yeah and now I have spots in my one good eye,”

Callie flicked his arm gently, scowling when he looked up at her. 

“The vision in the other one should get better once the swelling has gone down, so tough. How’s your pain?” she asked, moving to flip over a page of his chart on the bedside table after she’d pulled her thick framed glasses from the breast pocket of her scrubs. 

“Could be a 3 if you gave me something like morphine,” he mumbled. Callie’s brow furrowed; where was this temperamental side coming from?

Margaret waved her finger. “Uh-uh, Orcs burn it off too fast, that’s why there’s such an issue with addiction amongst them,” she said without skipping a beat, skimming the notes. “Since you’re a cop I figured you would’ve known that,” she added, eyeing him from over her glasses.

Nick chuffed, but winced. Too hard on the ribs. 

“Calm down,” Callie whispered, rubbing his shoulder. 

“It’s okay, it’s a symptom of the concussion he has. Keep those shades closed cause apparently he has a sensitivity to light he didn’t bother telling me when I looked at his pupils,”

“What should I look out for if it gets worse?” Callie asked. 

“Well if he keeps his mouth shut about how he’s feeling I can’t really answer that, now can I?” Margaret sighed, crossing her arms after placing the papers down. Nick eyed her angrily, ready to sleep again. He didn’t want to be poked or questioned anymore.

“Nick,” Callie intoned, and he looked at her. The desperation- no, _concern_ in her eyes evened him, and silenced the snappy comeback he almost lashed out. Even he didn’t understand the ire he felt.

“Nauseous and a stupid ringing in my ears,” he mumbled, still looking at Callie. 

“Scale of 1 to 10?”

Nick looked back over to his doctor. “Like an 8,”

“We can give you something for that cause you gotta start eating. Mouth all chewed up?”

He nodded. 

“Soft foods then. No junk. Now for the rest of you- what hurts the most?”

“This and the knee,” he pointed to his swollen eye socket before his leg, and tensed when Margaret pumped the wall dispenser of hand sanitizer into her palms and slipped on gloves to examine him. 

“X-rays didn’t show any breaks, but your kneecap did get shoved around a lot, aggravated the connective tissue,” she explained, bending his leg despite his loud protests and sharp snarls. Callie grabbed his hand, her jaw dropping and her face scrunching when he squeezed it with wraithlike power. 

He was panting when she stuck the ice under his knee again, propping it higher than before. 

“I’m not gonna look at that cause I already know it’s a hairline fracture,” she said, pointing to his eye. Callie followed her finger, to the swollen, stitched skin across his brow. There was also the two gashes under his eye and top lip, but they must’ve just been superficial, despite looking like he’d been downright stabbed.

“That bad?” Nick mumbled, and she nodded, massaging her sore hand. 

“What about his hand?” Callie asked. 

“Do I have permission to speak to her about your treatment?” Margaret asked, and Nick nodded. 

“Okay. His middle and ring fingers were dislocated and snapped backwards, so it’ll be a few weeks before that comes off, but depending on how much damage there is, it could take up to six months for normal functionality to return,”

“Good thing it’s your left hand,” Callie commented. 

“Other than that, you have some bad bruising on your ribs I need to look at and a whole lot of stitches everywhere you can’t get wet, so no showers. Let’s get you up,” she told him, shifting the bed rails down. 

“First no morphine now I can’t even take a shower?” he grumbled. 

“Not even with Aqua Guards?” Callie asked, grabbing behind his elbow as he did hers to help him sit up slowly. 

“Those things are completely untrustworthy- arm up,” Margaret answered, adjusting her glasses before leaning down to observe the deep purple and green of the bruising all over his ribs and stomach after moving his gown aside. Square bandaging covered the various spots he had stitches. Just how hard did someone have to be bludgeoned to cut skin through clothes?

Callie watched in masked horror, wondering if it spread across his back as well, but didn’t move from holding his arm above his head, even when his breathing became labored. His solid chest and stomach trembled, and clenched, low whimpers slipping past his lips. 

“Almost done,” 

He flinched every time she poked, and sweat started to line his forehead. When Nick started to lean away from her evaluation, Callie held him around the shoulders, using her front to block him. What she would do to allow herself to lean down and hold him when he hid his face against her, letting louder whines to come forth. 

“Are you hungry?” she hoped to distract him, rubbing his back. He nodded, slowly. 

“I found some greek yogurt downstairs, and those dried mango pieces you like,”

Nick looked at her weakly when he could finally drop his arm and lean back again, and wiggled into his bed as they helped prop him up. 

“Yogurt with m &m’s?” he asked, and Callie nodded. “What kind?”

“The mini ones,” she grinned. He held her fingers loosely, just a second before running his hand down his face. 

“So, overall you’re looking…” Margaret weighed her hands. “Decent. Orcs can withstand a hellova lot more, but you still took quite the beating, my friend. You’ll need to stay a day or two longer depending on how your concussion settles and the blood in your gut does, but I’d say about a 6 week time frame is what you’re looking at before you start feeling up to work again,” Margaret explained, scratching her tight, dark curls that were tied into a messy bun atop her head. 

“Can I get that in writing for work?” Nick asked, and she nodded. “Better pain meds?” 

She inhaled, thinking it over. “We can try dilaudid, but the minute you start asking for double doses you’re out of here,” she explained. He nodded, finally compliant if it meant a moment without discomfort.

“Now, I’m gonna have someone come by later and talk to you about in-home nurses, cause you’re not gonna be able to walk around on that knee or move too much with your ribs like that,” she told him, writing it down on the little notepad she pulled out of her thigh pocket. 

“Can I respectfully decline that?” he asked, absolutely disliking of the idea of a stranger following him around at home. 

“Unless you have family you can stay with while you recover?”

Callie bit her inner lip. _This could end badly._

“He has me,” she declared, and Nick looked at her, his brows furrowing. 

Margaret looked at her. “He at least needs three of those weeks covered,”

“I can do it. I know how to handle his stubborn mood swings,” she grinned, earning a flat look from Nick, but Callie shrugged. “It’s either me or a nurse,”

He exhaled, nodding. 

“Yeah I’d say you have that under control. Alright, I’ll be checking in now and again to see how you’re doing. Don’t try and wander around. Harass the nurses if you need. Nice meeting you, Officer.” Margaret grinned, patting his shoulder before waving to Callie as she left. 

“Callie,” he said, waiting until he heard the door latch. She was pulling his blankets back up, then moving to pull his food from the bags. 

“Callie,” he said again, but she looked at him now, her short waves framing her calm expression. “You don’t have to do this,”

When she lifted his arm and rested in her lap so she could sit on the mattress beside him, he instinctively stroked her thigh with his thumb, but caught himself, and stopped. 

“Do you want me to leave?”

He shook his head. 

“Then I’m gonna take care of you. I know we… we’re split, but that doesn’t matter. You need help, and I really do know how to handle you when you’re being stubborn,” she told him. Everything about the way she looked was decisive. There was no room for argument, but he didn’t want to say anything, really. Hearing her say ‘split’... still hurt. Too much right now. 

“Plus, what were you going to eat if you can’t get up and move around by yourself?” 

“I’d crawl to my backyard and eat the bell peppers and onions,”

She snorted, finally smiling as he did. “Yogurt?” she asked. 

“Yogurt.”

She prepared the little cup and spoon for him, but told him she refused to feed him if he even thought about asking, and remembered to dump a handful of mini m &m’s into it. He chewed slowly, more of squishing it again the roof of his mouth with his tongue than anything as he watched her move around, organizing the snacks on the bedside table. 

“What about work?” he asked. 

“I can get some time off- that gonna fill you up or you want another one?” she asked, and he nodded. 

“You only have to take like a week, I don’t need three-” but she stopped him, shoving the next yogurt cup in his face as he’d finished the first one already. 

“Four weeks and I’ll leave you alone,”

He frowned. “I don’t- you can stay, don’t… nevermind,” he mumbled, staring at the yogurt. 

“That’s not what I meant. I thought cause like…” she faltered, her eyes fluttering around before landing on her hands that folded before her. “You didn’t call,” she sighed, and he looked up at her. 

“Neither did you,”

They both looked away, worried about where that conversation would lead. It was abrupt to bring forth such a discussion, and neither of them were ready in any sense to pick it apart. 

“Six weeks?” he asked then. Callie held back a wide smile, and nodded, dumping more m&m’s into his cup. 

“Six weeks.” she affirmed, and caught the little smirk he gave her before she turned away. 

“You’ve been okay?” he asked. “I mean how you’ve been,” he corrected. 

“Um…” she exhaled before sitting beside him again, thinking. 

“You’ve made decisions,” he toyed, flicking his finger between the ends of her hair. 

“Bad decision,” she smoothed her hands down her head. “Just working, though,” _I’ve been sad again. Do you wanna hear how I don’t sleep in my bed anymore?_ “You?”

He shrugged, stirring the yogurt that would be done in another bite. “Working,” he mumbled. _That’s all I do now._

They both looked elsewhere, unknowing of where to turn next in that conversation. 

“Daryl wants you to call him when you’re up to it,” she remembered. 

“I have no idea where my phone is,” 

She rose to grab it from her purse, but hesitated. Still bloodied and in the bag with his keys. When she handed it over, Nick wavered, slowly turning it in his hands and observing. He looked like a child that had been yelled at for something he’d never done, like his eyes had finally been opened, revealing the world wasn’t as dreamy as he once thought. 

He remembered trying to call, sometimes screaming for help. He remembered clawing at the ground, looking up at the night sky as the cold seeped in and his blood leaked out. 

“Why do people hate me so much?” 

Defeat. 

She never thought it would come to this, but here they were. Callie felt for him. Hopelessness gripped her heart at the sight of him so crushed; this time, where was the silver lining he usually used to bounce back in the face of hardship? 

Like he looked away and wiped his eyes to hide his anguish, she finally let herself wrap her arms around him, carefully embracing his injured form that shook with silent cries to hide her own tears she couldn’t repress. 

↠

“Your phone is going off again,” Nick told her, his arm draped over his head and an ice-pack upon his sore ribs. He’d watched her phone light up and vibrate loudly on the bedside table at least 3 times in last hour. 

She finished pulling the blankets up his legs before walking to her phone, chewing her inner lips.

Rosie this time. She hadn’t dared answer when Patricia called; that woman knew not how to deliver advice in any kind way, even if Callie usually appreciated her bluntness. She was sure those calls weren’t to offer any sage, older sister advice, though. It would've been to tell her how foolish she was for quitting her job, taking care of the ex-boyfriend, yada yada yada. 

_No one said shit when you stayed with Luis after he cheated on you 3 times…_

“I’ll be right back,” Callie mumbled, finally greeting Rosie as she walked from the room. 

Nick watched the TV, already starting to feel uncomfortable on his side, but the ice on his ribs was a welcome numbness. They’d only given him a small starting dose of effective pain meds, and since he’d agreed to not ask for more before the allowed time, he had to deal with ice and heating pads, and flipping side to side in bed. 

But something else scratched at his calm exterior. 

He wanted to shower. He was covered in dried betadine and blood that he had picked at the remainder of the day, not to mention the bedding he’d been laying in since the AM hours. A giant scab is the closest thing he could compare to how he felt when he asked Callie to guard the door so he could shower. 

She only looked at him flatly, waiting out his puppy dog eyes until he sighed and looked away.

Now he was contemplating. 

Even if he could wipe himself down, maybe rinse off his arms… stick himself under the shower head real quick. 

He exhaled, glancing at the door. Callie was still out there, but he’d heard the door latch. 

There was no need to set the ice pack down so quietly, nor was there any need to move the blankets aside so slowly, but everything seemed louder, even his legs sliding across the sheets. 

He tensed, stifling a groan when he tightened his ribs. Although his body protested, urging him to lie back down, he kept his eyes trained to the door, biting his tongue every time something across his body rang with pain. 

He allowed himself to breathe when he was up, his head hung down. Running a steep incline would've been a walk in the park compared to this.

Nick tested his knee, slowly swinging his foot in tight thrusts. It wasn’t pleasant, but it didn’t seem unbearable, either.

Another look at the door, and he gripped the edge of the bed, staring determinedly at the floor. 

 

“Okay listen I get the taking care of him but Cal _why_ did you have to quit your job?” Rosie implored. 

With the phone held away from her ear, she could still hear her, and knew that their mom or Patricia must’ve also been there after ignoring them all day. 

“Even if I hadn’t’ve quit I wouldn’t’ve been paid anything missing all that work. I would've been fired eventually,” she repeated, maybe for the tenth time. 

“You could have worked around the weeks-”

“Tio Gordo would _not_ have paid me,”

“You don’t know that,”

“I do. I’ve asked for overtime before and he said no. He only pays what keeps him out of trouble,” Callie argued flatly. This conversation was running circles, and the pounding of a hunger headache was starting to grow in severity. 

“You could’ve asked mom to talk to him,”

She scoffed, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palms. “Rose-”

_“Callie!”_

She spun against the wall, shoving through the door to Nick’s room. 

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, her phone call forgotten as she kneeled by his form sprawled across the ground, unsure of how to help first. 

“Did you roll out of bed?” she asked, putting his hands on her shoulders and squatting over him to leverage him into a sitting position. He whimpered, trembling as he did his best to curl himself forwards. It wasn’t until he was sat against the bed did she notice the blood on her arm that was trickling from the back of his hand. 

She looked up- his IV had been ripped out. 

“Oh baby,” she breathed, bolting to grab the towels in the bathroom. 

If his pain was a 10 before, it was a 13 now. He’d flopped right onto his bad side after the slightest amount of his own weight leaned on his knee. 

“Okay here we go,” she said, wrapping a smaller towel around his hand. “Hold that,” she instructed, using another to wipe his face of sweat and blood. The stitch above his eye had popped, also. 

“Did you hit your head?” 

He nodded. “I need to call the nurses,” she told him, starting to stand. 

“Wait,” he grabbed her arm, and she watched as he pulled his gown aside. 

Blood was pooling beneath the patch tapped just under his peck. 

Callie exhaled, looking back to his tired eyes. 

↠

“One more, pumpkin,” Margaret mumbled. 

Nick’s face scrunched, his hand tightening around Callie’s when the needle poked slowly into the gash over his ribs. Callie hushed him gently when he growled, her forehead against his where she leaned from her seat beside him. 

He could feel the skin tug when line was pulled through and tied, but the sharp pinch of the curved needle was undetected. Callie still stayed close, her hand now below his cheek where he’d rested his head. 

She knew he was embarrassed, and wasn’t speaking because of it, but she’d never deny the comfort he clearly needed. Throughout the time it took to restitch him, she’d silenced his angered protests, pulling his face back to look at her when he lashed out. The extra dose of dilaudid helped when he became too resistant, too.

He looked up at her with those sleepy ambers when her finger scraped gently against his cheek, and lingered. 

She giggled. “You look so high,” 

He snorted, but she stilled him so he wouldn’t disrupt his doctor. “My eyes feel like heavy windows,” he mumbled, adjusting his face back over her splayed hand. “You’re so soft,”

So she pulled from his grasp to hold his other cheek, and his grin was dopey, aided by his swollen, lopsided brow. 

“Have the nurses given him a fall risk band?” Margaret asked. Nick grumbled, burrowing his face downwards to hide. 

“Only the little sad face page on the door,” Callie answered. 

“Unfortunately we can’t put bells on patients who are supposed to stay in bed,” she paused to clip the last stitch. “But I implore you to stay put. You’re lucky your ribs didn’t snap and stab a lung,”

“Are you listening?” Callie asked. Nick nodded, his eyes barely open. “Can he take sponge baths?”

“I recommend not? Water can still get under these bandages,”

“But it’s not strictly forbidden?” Callie asked, raising her brows when Margaret looked at her. 

“No, it’s not,” 

“We’ll tackle that in the morning then,” Callie told him, but it looked like he’d already fallen asleep again with his arm over his head and half his body exposed with clean stitches. 

“When I hear back on when he’ll be getting that repeat MRI I’ll have someone tell you,” his doctor told her, carefully taping another gauze patch over the wound before starting to pull her gloves off and clean the tableside tray. Callie nodded, her head lolling sideways on the pillow beside his, looking at Nick. 

“How much longer will the temper keep up for?” she asked, her thumb stroking his chin that puckered under her touch.

Margaret shrugged. “Probably when his head stops hurting. It’s easy to understand why he’s so irritable,” 

It made perfect sense, but it still unsettled her. It was like the blows he took to the head had altered his very personality. All day he’d been resistant, and snappy, even when she’d done her best to assist him. 

“Is it unlike him?”

“Extremely,” Callie sighed, slowly sliding her hand from under his cheek. 

Nick stirred, his eyes dragging open. 

“I’m sorry, go back to sleep,” she cooed, but he shook his head, which was actually more of a wiggle. 

“Hungry,” he grumbled. 

“Of course you are,”

“Okay, don’t try to stand up again because I will sedate you and tie you down if I have to,” Margaret pointed, her brows perked up as she glared at him suspiciously. Nick nodded curtly, but chuffed lowly when she turned her back. 

Nick returned Callie’s sideways glare when the door was closed, but with foggy eyes. Her determination to win this stare off was hindered as she struggled to open the bag of dried mango pieces. 

“Gimme,” he reached, but she snorted. 

“You can’t do anything with that club hand,” she retorted. Now he chuffed at her, but she only snickered. 

With the bag at last opened, and chewing sleepily on them with a handful cupped against his chest, she moved about the room, flipping the lights off so it was only the IV pump illuminating them and street lights poking through the curtains. 

Nick hummed as he chewed, caught somewhere between consciousness and a strange state of mind that he’d never experienced before. College was the last time he’d been high, but it had worn off so quickly that he could barely enjoy any part of it. The differences in salvia and dilaudid were night and day, however. 

He could recall the curtains around him melting, and the color storm swarming his vision. That was the last time he touched it, and associated with the ‘friends’ that laughed when he panicked. 

But this was… this was nice, he had to admit. 

He was pinching his gown in search of another piece when Callie finally settled beside him in a chair, spreading her own blanket over her legs that she propped up on the mattress beside his. 

“Where’d you find scrubs?” Nick asked, at last noticing she was no longer in the clothes she had worn earlier. 

“I know a couple people here,” she exhaled, leaning back and scrolling through her phone. 

He toyed with a piece of mango between his lips. “Did you find them in a closet?”

Her smile was guilty, but made him grin in return. By the time he finished his mangos, she had set her phone down and pulled the blanket over her shoulders, wiggling her head against the backrest of the chair. 

They looked at one another, the slightest of light silhouetting his lax form that was still only half clothed, but his sharp eyes could see her clearly, or as much as he could in his drowsy state. 

“S’quiet,” he whispered. 

“Music?” she whispered back, and he nodded. 

She named off bands from her phone that he continued to grunt in disapproval to, but she was coming to the end of her library of choices. 

“Choose or I’m gonna play Billie,” she said. He looked so deep in thought that she knew what he was about to say when he opened his mouth, his eyes barely open. 

“No Cannibal Corpse,” she interrupted. 

His face scrunched, his jaw shifting outwards. “What’d’you have against them?”

“I like thrash, not death metal,”

“But they’re-”

“Not romantic,” she interrupted again, locking sleepy gazes with him. 

“You’re _mean_ ,” he mumbled, settling deeper into his bed. She snorted softly, finally choosing a song and resting the phone flat against her chest as she slipped further down her seat. 

Nick’s good brow furrowed. “Is’this tha’ teenager?”

“Mhm,” Callie hummed, her eyes closed as the gentle harmony accompanied by the soft strumming of guitar floated across the room. 

“Creepy song,” he grumbled. 

“ _And let me crawl inside your veins_ ,” she drawled softly, smiling after she’d cracked an eye open to find him staring intensely at her. 

“Stop,” 

“ _I’ll build a wall, give you a ball and chain_ ,” she continued, but he flapped his hand around, only managing to keep one eye open as she sang. “I put it on repeat,” Callie smiled, patting his hand away when he reached farther to mess with her. 

He yawned when she did, unbearably sleepy, yet unable to stop looking at her as she barely mouthed the words, the one eye she had open fallen shut. Her lips slowed, her grin dissolving as the last of her awareness faded by the time the song had completed again. 

Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, alerting him she’d fallen under. There was also the way her left brow always rose when she was passed out, and always made him grin. Neverending attitude, even when she was unconscious. 

Nick couldn’t reach the soft ends of her shorter hair around her cheeks, and exhaled with his arm hung off the bed after giving up. 

But he could reach her lithe fingertips, hung off her thigh. 

Carefully he stroked beneath them with his blunt fingers, secretly desperate to feel them scrape against his skin again, or caress his palms when she’d hold his hands and smile, speaking to him about anything and everything. 

Slowly, he laced his fingers just to his middle knuckles with hers, forever amazed by the difference in size of their hands. 

He brought his hand back to his own chest before the song would start again, but continued to gaze at her, detailing the curve of her cheeks, the fullness of her lips- how her honey-golden skin still glowed with warmth in the dark. He wanted to see those big eyes smile at him, without reservation, or in pity. 

Nick swallowed. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he whispered. “I wanted to call. I should’ve brought you home.”

_But this feels right so stay a sec  
Yeah, this feels right so stay a sec_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for anyone who's wondering, the song is Hostage by Billie Eilish  
> yes callie is a metal head, BUT EVERYONE LIKES AT LEAST ONE SONG FROM BILLIE
> 
> our babies still have a long road ahead of them, so stay patient, my lovely readers, and as always, thanks for spending time with my story today! 🖤😊


	11. Fogteeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo I decided instead of going on a hiatus that I'll just upload the chapters as I finish them, cause I've been staring at this one a few days and I don't like it just sitting in my docs xD

He looked up at her. She reserved saying anything despite her impatience becoming obvious, but it only made him further reluctant. 

With her hands on her hips, he averted his eyes, clearing his throat while he adjusted his grip on the bed. Callie rotated her head back, her composure lifting.

“Nick,”

“It _hurts_ ,”

She exhaled. “It’s gonna hurt but you gotta get up and move. You wanna add a blood clot to all of this?”

His chin lifted in an exaggerated fashion to meet her gaze, and groaned when she held her palms up to him. Nick swung his foot again, but the horrid recollection of smacking against the ground the night before after his knee had given out still vexed him. 

“Just to the chair, viejo,” she grinned, leaning back to smoothly hoist him forward as he rose, clutching her hands. 

“I’m not that old,” he clarified roughly, adjusting his grip to her forearms as he balanced on doubtful legs. She constantly reassured him, moving his hands to her shoulders so she could support his sides while he acquainted with standing upright again. 

“One step at a time,” she instructed, following his lead as he timidly slid one foot forward. He winced when he bared weight on the swollen, creaking knee, but managed to limp onto his good one, his fingers digging into Callie’s shoulders. Uncomfortable, but she remained silent. Another fall and smack to his head could be his last if she wasn’t cautious. 

“Is it awful?” she asked, watching his feet. 

“Still not as bad as _mole_ ,”

She snorted, stepping back as he shuffled forward. To be honest, if Nick started to fall, there was no way she could support or catch his big body. He was 240 pounds of muscle she was barely capable of shoving when they used to play fight. 

“Does this count as a dance lesson?” he puffed, hoping the deep breaths would stop his spinning vision. She laughed. “On your way to being the best dancer in LA. Okay, turn,”

With a few more shuffling steps sideways, she used her entire weight to lean away and lower him into the wheelchair. With a rough exhale his head craned back, the heels of his palms pressing against his closed eyes. 

“Are you dizzy?” she asked, tucking a blanket around his hips and legs. His mumble alone sounded disconnected. 

“Here baby,” she said softly, bending two pillows in his lap. Nick pressed his face into the cold surface of them, whimpering low in his chest and eyes pinched shut so he couldn’t see the room flutter around him. 

“C’you bring my sweater? And beanie?” he slurred, rotating his head to peak up at her. 

“Of course. Pajamas too?”

He nodded, hiding his face again when two nurses walked in. 

“Alright Mr. Jakoby, ready to get going?” the older woman asked, a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged. 

“He’s dizzy,” Callie told them, chewing her lip. 

“Couple days in bed will do that, hun,” she smiled kindly, rubbing his shoulder before lifting the brakes and turning his chair. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Callie called, their fingertips brushing when he reached for her, and catching the glimpse of a molten eye looking up to her before they wheeled him out. 

She twisted her thumb in her palms grasp, itching to follow, but knew he was desperate for his own clothes. _I’m tired of my ass hanging out_ , was the first thing he’d said as they’d woken up that morning. 

Callie blew air, and pushed her hair back in a restless manner, turning from the door. If she stared any longer, she’d end up chasing after them. 

Her bag and his keys were ready to go, but the room needed to be straightened up before cleaning came in. A small pile of empty food bags and containers were stacked on the table beside his bed, a few blankets here and there, some extra pillows. Hopefully his bedding would be changed before he got back; small stains of blood were freckled across the sheets, not to mention sweat that had dried into the fabric. 

She was rolling a blanket in her arms when the door opened again, and where she expected a nurse or house cleaning to come in was instead a towering Orc. 

He wore a black leather vest over another jacket and jeans, but she knew it was Fogteeth even before the other two came in, brandishing the bold lettering and numbers. The male in front had long scars dug into the length of his face that she observed as he looked around, his paler, yellow eyes finally settling on her. 

She kept her hands moving, grabbing another blanket and looking away only a moment to place the first one down. If there was one thing having anxiety taught her, it was how to mask her uncertainty or panic in movements. 

“Hello,” she spoke first, facing them. 

“He’s obviously not here,” he acknowledged, his smokey voice composed. 

“He’s having another MRI,” she finished folding, and crossed her arms. 

“Stable?” he asked, and she stiffly nodded. Surely they could smell the unease on her; the heat spreading under her skin and over her muscle in preparation to fight or run, trying to understand what they could’ve wanted, but her worry wasn’t for herself. Nick had been brought in broken and bloody, and she’d speculated from day one it could've been other Orcs, maybe even Fogteeth if he’d done something to piss the right ones off. But from what she’d heard, Fogteeth weren’t dim-witted. They wouldn’t try anything in a _hospital_. 

Callie hadn’t seen or heard from Nick for 2 weeks prior; anything could’ve happened in that time to have them here. 

“World traveled fast that the cop had been jumped. We came to pay our respects,”

Her eyes narrowed, her pursed lips pulling to the side. _That doesn’t seem… honest_. 

“Hate to say but he hasn’t been up for much company,” she exhaled, sitting on his bed, her arms still crossed. 

“Except you? You’re a friend?” he probed, starting to wander around. Callie was unmoving, and didn't spin or flinch when he walked behind her, but the edge of her foot was rocking sideways against the floor.

“Girlfriend,” she lied. 

The other two- one with a leather vest similar to his, and another representing the infamous ‘79’ jersey looked at her, but she couldn't tell if it was surprise in their striking eyes, or excitement. Callie cocked a brow, following the first ones figure as he moved before her. She stayed put when he grabbed the chair and pulled it in front of her.

If sitting so casually with his ankle over his knee was meant to intimidate her, it wasn’t working. 

It would’ve been scarier if he made them close the door.

“You know who we are,” he established, and she nodded. 

“You know we take care of our own,” and she nodded again. There was a sincerity in his tone, aided how he looked her in the eye as he spoke. Orcs were transparent in the sense that a brief conversation with one gave you all you needed to know of that particular ones demeanor. A strong race, but not strong enough to wiggle out from under the humans oppressive boots. 

“What can you tell me about what happened?” he asked. 

She inhaled, the beginnings of anger showing in her expressive brows. “There was three of them, definitely one human he said, but they were all covered in black. They beat him with their boots and pipes, and only one spoke. He couldn’t get anything else with his face being kicked in,” she finished, clearing her throat when her voice cracked. 

“What did they say?”

She tried, but she couldn’t look him in the eye when she quietly repeated, “Orcs don’t belong with humans.”

The scarred one looked back at the other two, and nodded. The shorter one in the jersey left the room, only confusing Callie further. 

“Police report made?” he asked. 

She smiled- the kind that hid defeat, but her glossy eyes caused an outbreak across her face. Her brows tightened, and she held her forehead, hiding her face. 

“There was one made,” she sniffled, “But he’s the Orc cop everyone hates,” she was laughing, wiping her eyes. “No one will do shit about it,”

He studied her, his head turning as he watched the human girl cry over the roundtooth, but still kept her back straight, and shoulders squared. Her eyes were cutting as they were sad in that moment, and quickly she composed herself, pushing her short hair behind her ears. 

The way he lifted his chin ever so slightly, and flared his nostrils, his chest expanding in rapid successions- _he was scenting her_. Nick had done it countless times. She could’ve been walking by, sometimes after they’d had sex and he was dropping her off at work; even when she was angry. 

_So why was this he doing it?_

“What’s your name?” he asked. 

“Calista,”

He extended his arm, and she squeezed his hand when they shook. “Dorghu,” he said. 

“Will you tell me why you’re here so I don’t have to assume, Dorghu?”

He smirked, leaning back in the chair. “As soon as word had spread that the Orc cop was jumped, I knew it wasn’t Fogteeth. He earned his blooding, and nothing happens without my say so. _This_ was done by humans with the help of other orcs,” he explained. 

“How’re you so sure it wasn’t Fogteeth?” she asked outright. 

“Because we do not disfavor our members mates, whether human or beast,” 

Her head pulled in an inch. _Mate?_ Her fists tightened in her lap, her thighs squeezing together. _Was Nick's scent still… in her?_

“He hasn’t spoken much about you,” she disclosed 

Dorghu raised his hands impartially. “He’s our distant comrade, but still one nonetheless. He proved bravery when the wand was in the open, so we’re here to give what we all deserve. We’ll find the ones that did this,” 

Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t form the word: _wand?_

“Dorghu,” 

Both of them looked up at the Orc that had entered the room again. 

“Iav wauk noav avhe LA Ivorys,” he said, but she understand nothing. The only words Callie knew were ‘puukukausan’ and ‘hungrausan’. 

Dorghu nodded, looking back at her. “We’ll be in touch. Give munguz our best.”

He stood, and shook her hand again. “Calista.”

“Dorghu.”

The other two nodded their heads in her direction before following him out, muttering lowly as the door closed behind themselves. 

She remained, wandering through her thoughts. 

Nick had always been reluctant to provide too many details of his blooding, or the night in question that had gotten his face on TV for some positive press for once, but a _wand_? Was that the cause of such elusive behavior? There was no avoiding the question now with that singular, powerful word at her ready. 

Before that would happen though… she held her arms, then pressing her face into her palms. 

_We do not disfavor our members mates._

Nick was still on her, inside of her. He’d left a piece of himself behind, even though she hadn’t known, yet would be obvious to other Orcs. 

Callie grinned. She’d always loved knowing that.

She rubbed the back of her neck, touching under her jaw. Often during those two lonesome weeks she’d wondered if the mark he frequently bit into would remain forever. The striking purple of the bruised bite had faded greatly, but enough was left behind to still be discernible. Nick hadn’t noticed, but he also probably knew he was still all over her. 

“Sneaky bastard.” she whispered, standing. 

Everything else was pushed into the trash or stacked neatly, and with her bag slung over her shoulder and cleaned keys in her hand, she left. 

 

It felt unusual heading towards his home, and even more surreal walking the block from the bus stop through his neighborhood. 

Callie expected there to be crime scene tape somewhere along his house, maybe even to block off the front yard, but there was nothing. Had they done anything extensive? Only a day had passed- why weren’t they here doing their job?

When she rounded the end of the truck, she saw the ajar gate of the backyard fence. 

She swallowed, crunching and shifting the keys in her hands. 

Her feet moved, but her mind was screaming to just collect his shit and leave. But she had to. She had to see where it happened. She figured she’d been concocting more brutality in her mind than there actually was, so maybe this would help lessen the horrific images that hadn’t eased since first hearing. 

She wept, her hand clapping against her mouth when her eyes fell upon the sizable stain of blood that had dried into the grass, and the sprays on the wall of his house and fence. 

It was worse than she’d imagined, and the horror only grew in intensity. 

Callie spun on her heel and beelined for his front door, fumbling with the keys as she choked down tears. 

But finally stepping into his house after using the wrong key twice… 

It was like a blanket was thrown over her mind, letting her escape a moment. 

Nick’s house was always warm, and quiet. The tall ceilings provided comfort like a church would to a Catholic, and his cologne was everywhere. 

It was all the same; couches still covered in blankets, his table piled with junk mail he always forgot to throw out. She already knew there’d be little to nothing in his fridge, but plenty of snacks in his pantry. 

_Get his shit and leave, dumbass_. 

She found his Adidas bag and his favorite pullover, buried in the pile of clothes atop the chair in the corner of his room, and grabbed extras of briefs and sweats. Only a couple shirts- he overheated easier than a woman in menopause. But where was the fucking beanie-

Her hands stilled sifting through his drawer when she recognized a pair of royal blue panties; the ones he’d bought for her on their one month anniversary. 

She grinned, as she always did when she recalled how flustered and nervous he’d been when he handed her the bag and told her how uncomfortable it was walking into the store and buying them. She chuckled, and placed them back into the drawer, then noticing all the other pairs she’d left behind. 

In the closet, her hands parted his shirt, finding that her small section was still there. 

In the bathroom, the hair ties she kept around the doorknob remained, as well as the extra toothbrush and shampoo. 

It took only a moment to understand the sadness from it all. 

Just like she kept his clothes left behind, so did he. 

They both hung onto what had been left. 

She exhaled, covering her face. “Why now of all fucking times?” she asked aloud, shaking off the torment before grabbing both of their toothbrushes. 

There was indeed snacks in his cupboards that she stuffed into his bag, but he’d need something kinder to the body than Takis. 

_Maybe it wasn’t a good idea getting him hooked on those._

His warbag was in the driver's seat. She looked back at the closed gate as the engine turned over, wondering if she could ever sit in his backyard again knowing what had happened. Her grip on the wheel tightened, but had to reach down to pull his seat closer to the pedals. 

She revved the engine, adjusted the mirrors, pumped the emergency break loose, but her eyes kept going back to the gate. 

_It was at his own fucking house._

She backed the truck out, palming the wheel and shifting into drive in one fluid motion as she glanced at the backyard again. 

_He should’ve been safe at his own home, but he wasn’t._

The realization hit her harder than a smack to the back of her head. 

She dug in her purse, cursing when her phone managed to catch on the zipper to her bag. With practiced skill, she kept her occupied hand beside her thigh as she drove onto the busier streets, scrolling until she found Wards name. 

She called him three times, only to be greeted by voicemail. 

A portion of her hissed curse was probably caught before she hung up again, and she found herself weaving impatiently through traffic in her haste to write a message, the engine of the truck roaring everytime she flattened the gas pedal. In typical fashion, she hit every red light, or was pinned behind every slow driver. Surely what she so desperately needed to share wasn’t time sensitive, but the urgency heightened her anxiety. She need it out of her head like it was a nail that needed to be yanked from under her foot. 

Finally parked, she typed swiftly, fumbling at least a dozen times: **who ever attacked Nick knew where he lived or had followed him home that night**

She sent the message, chewing her lips as she closed and reopened her message app over and over again, willing Ward to reply. After a minute that felt like 10, she looked up at the liquor store she’d parked across the street from. It was empty- normal for the morning shift. Suddenly she wished she’d gone home and changed out of the clothes Nick had bled on, but this was the one thing she wanted done and over with above all. 

She slammed the drivers door harder than she’d meant after slipping down the seat, and walked with determination into the store. 

“Callie!” Ashely piped, clearly surprised to see her there. 

“Hey,” she responded, scanning, but no sign of her uncle. 

“How’s Nick?” the blonde asked, her magazine forgotten against the counters surface as she surveyed the blood on Callie’s arm and chest. A shake of her head and frown told her all she needed, and Ashely sighed. 

“I’m so sorry,” 

“It’s- it’s fine. I just want my last paycheck,” Callie mumbled, leaning over the counter to look into the slots beneath. 

“Here,” Ashely pulled it out, already signed and enveloped. 

“Calista?”

She turned, her uncle standing in the doorway to the back. 

“Can we talk?” he asked, but the annoyance across his face only annoyed _her_. She already knew everything he’d have to say: _I’m worried, this is a mistake, it’s just one guy_. 

“I’ll see you around,” Callie told Ashely, not even a departing glance in his direction as she left her former place of employment, but he didn’t call after her, either. 

It was done and over with. 

She could relax ( _as much as possible_ ) now that she didn’t have to face anyone, at least until Rosie or Patricia called again. Santiago had made it clear to her that he didn’t want to be in between anything, and she thanked him for it. She preferred silence from one over noise from all three. Her phone hadn’t gone off yet, but she’d bet whatever was amounted on that last paycheck she’d be receiving a call from someone after cold shouldering her uncle like that. 

She’d worry about that later. Too many things to be done before heading back. 

All of his favorite snacks were tossed into the grocery basket as she paced through the aisles, adding a little extra for herself in case his stay at the hospital extended. Too bad she couldn’t bring scented candles; he hated the smell of hospitals, though never complained the numerous times he’d sit for hours beside her in the ER. 

All that time spent at her side, and she never asked what made him feel better while he was stuck there with her. She scanned up and down the rows, but nothing looked like it could help defuse some of that temper that held steadfast to him. 

Unwillingly, she gave up, standing in the checkout line with her stuffed basket hung in the crook of her elbow. 

Busy that day. The line was long, and moved slow enough for her to flip through a tabloid magazine. She always chuckled under her breath when they’d broadcast the weird crossover kid that popped up somewhere in the world, or always highlighting the heinous crime anything besides human committed. She rolled her eyes, stuffing it away as the line progressed. 

But then, she started noticing something. 

She hadn’t paid any mind to the two younger orcs before her at first, at least until they started glancing at her repeatedly and mumbling between themselves, all in Orkish. 

Trying to decode what they were saying was impossible, but they were acting so… giddy that it almost drove her to grab one of their shoulders and spin them, and demand what they were babbling about. 

“She’s spoken for,”

Callie jumped, turning to face the voice that silenced the youngins whispers and diverted their curious eyes. After quickly observing, and recognizing the imposing Orc behind her, she faced forward again, chewing her lip. 

“You were at the hospital this morning,” she declared, side stepping to glance back at him again. 

“Mhm,” he hummed. It was hard to think anyone could be taller than Nick, but he was considered small amongst orcs. Not this dude, though. He was at least a head taller, and lined with more muscle, too. Maybe it was because she was used to seeing her orc without tusks that made his seem so impressive, also. He wasn’t brandishing the known numbers or cuts of Fogteeth, however. If she’d not seen him that morning, he could’ve been any other orc. 

“Coincidence that you’re here too?” she asked. 

“That’s how it’s supposed to look,” he answered. That she spun at, her eyes narrowed. 

“Are you following me?” 

He nodded. She hadn’t expected him to be so truthful about it. “Dorghu’s insistence, not mine,” 

“Why?” she was starting to place her items on the belt, the hairs on the back of her neck standing. 

“He feels the roundtooth wasn’t the only one they’d planned to go after that night,”

Her brows furrowed. “Cause of what one of them said?”

He nodded, his ochre eyes continuing to move around. “No one came to my place that night,” she thought out loud. 

“Smart enough to not hit two places in one night,” 

She scoffed, pulling her hands down her face. Now her _safety_ was compromised? Would it even be safe to go back home? Not that Nick’s was any better at this point, but at least he had a gun at his house. All Callie had was an aluminum bat he’d stuck under her couch and a pepper spray around her keys. Not exactly useful if she can’t get to them, though. 

Even as she bagged her items, he stood nearby, pretending to be on the phone looking for someone, or observing the items of the overhead menu at the small deli inside the store, and he still followed when she walked by, as if he was simply headed in the same direction. He must’ve done this before; he was too good at looking inconspicuous. 

“So you just gonna keep following me around?” she called back. No answer, but he didn’t stop walking, either. At Nick’s truck, after she’d placed the bags in the bed, she almost turned into his chest. Callie sighed. 

“You gonna ride with me or something?” she snapped. 

He smirked. “That’s my car,” he stated, pointing to the SUV beside hers. 

She pursed her lips, crossing her arms. 

“So all the time, huh?” 

He shook his head. “In the open, yeah. When you’re at home, we’ll be… nearby,”

“You know where I live?”

“Apartment 7,” he exhaled, his hand shoving into his pockets. 

She stepped around a little, a hand on her forehead. _This keeps getting weirder_. “You should be with Nick- he’s the one that got attacked!”

“We do. A few, actually. There’s no one getting into that hospital without us knowing,”

That barely took the edge off, and still not enough to stop the nervous bouncing of her leg. Callie stared at the composed orc with monstrous features, trying to come to terms with this entire situation, but couldn’t quite wrap her mind around needing a full-time bodyguard. It hadn’t dawned on her until he made himself known that maybe her safety had been compromised, in addition.

“He’s safe?” warily she asked. 

“He’ll remain safe,” he insisted, the absolution of his deep voice the convincing she needed. With a short nod, she exhaled, stilling her fidgeting hands. 

“So I guess I’ll be seeing you around then,” 

He nodded, extending his hand. “Matuk,” he introduced himself. Her hand was minuscule in his. “See you around, Calista.” That’s when she noticed the bag in his hand carrying a pack of diapers and a few small candies. 

It could’ve only been another layer on top of his already cogent cover, but he also could’ve bought anything else besides diapers and candy. It tightened her already taught nerves knowing he was putting his safety on the line with kids at home. Callie didn’t know this orc in the slightest, but _someone_ loved him, and called him father. 

“Callie.” she corrected, and the both of them parted ways. 

She waited, wondering if he’d leave before she did, but again, he made himself busy with looking preoccupied for the ten minutes she tried to hold out. 

With a defeated groan, she backed out and left the parking lot, starting to small trek across town to the hospital. But now her eyes were everywhere. Not only on orcs that could also be more Fogteeth keeping tabs, but anything, anyone. What if behind Matuk’s car that followed was another one tailing them both? She took side streets and weird routes, straining to see past his SUV in the rear view mirror if anyone was following them both, but she was so flighty at that point that she couldn’t recall if any of the cars that pulled into the parking structure at the hospital had been the ones she’d tried keeping tabs on. 

He was already leaned against the gate of his SUV when she finished collecting her bags, bundled tightly against the steady breeze that washed through the shaded garage. A beanie was pulled over his head and pointed ears now, and she again wondered if the diapers she’d seen really were just a farce. 

“Be careful, yeah?” she said before departing. She stopped herself from looking around, not wanting to make her growing discomfort obvious. 

Just like he’d said, there were a couple orcs waiting in the lobby of the hospital, and a few more in the small coffee corner to her left. If they hadn’t followed her with their eyes, they could’ve passed as normal visitors. 

So many thoughts bombarded her during that long elevator ride, from wondering if she could ever do anything on her own again to questioning what kind of numbers the Fogteeth had to keep surveillance on them. She rubbed her scalp forcefully, sensing a headache was soon to make itself known. 

At last she made it to his floor, only after mobs of other visitors and staff had filed in and out, going up and down. If she hadn’t been so distracted by another Orc stepping into the elevator with her, she might’ve remembered to press the floor button to avoid riding everyone else’s route.

With his duffel bag and her backpack on shoulders, and armfuls of snacks, she waddled down the quiet hallway of neutral colored walls and bulletin boards filled with success stories, the occasional windows that were mostly curtained. Even the nurses were quiet, one of them glaring at her when she shifted a noisy bag from one arm to the other. 

Before she turned the handle down to his door, distressed voices from inside stopped her. 

A woman’s voice, exasperated, on the verge of tears it sounded by the way she paused often, but Callie couldn’t understand any of the Bodzvokhan that was blubbered at Nick. 

Callie swallowed. _Did he have a new girlfriend already?_

_Ugh_ , there was that sinking feeling again. It always hit so swiftly, touching every corner of her being. A sadness she could feel in her marrow. 

_What the fuck am I doing here?_ she thought, looking down at the bags in her hands. 

“ _Dats_ I don’t have my _phone_ -” she heard Nick grouse, and the switch that had darkened her heart so suddenly was flipped on again. 

“You have a phone beside you, _boausan_!” came another voice- another male voice, deeper than Nick’s. 

Parents. 

_Parents_.

_**Oh my god parents**_. 

She stumbled before turning down the hallway, completely, utterly not prepared to meet, let alone see his parents. A month ago? _Sure_. Today? _Fuck no_. She’d be his ‘friend’. A friend that just happened to smell like their son who’d had his dick buried in her-

Callie whined low, pinching her eyes shut and rubbing her temples. 

She couldn’t hear them, but she hoped they weren’t scolding him. It had her on the edge of her seat, ready to run to his defense if she caught any whisper of a hint. But against his own parents? He’d told her little to nothing about them, but it never came across that they were estranged, either. 

_Just busy_ , he’d always say. 

The door opened, and her head shot up. Footsteps, and she pretended to be gazing out the window towards the hall they’d inevitably follow, but her foot was shaking back and forth at lightning speed. 

They mumbled lowly, and his mom was the first she saw the back of. Dressed nothing like she’d expected; black peacoat over dark jeans and winter boots, a silky wrap around her head and his dad’s arm around her shoulders. Now she understood why Nick was smaller than most- his mom could’ve only been half a head taller than Callie, but his father was mighty, his dark long sleeves that were pulled up around his elbows probably too short to even reach his wrists. He softly consoled his distraught wife, and Callie glimpsed the striking resemblance he had to his son. Carved cheeks, a deeper shade of blue compared to the swirling green of most Orcs. 

Callie was awestruck, unable to look away until they vanished around another corner. 

Dinara and Oleg. Finally something to match to the names she’d been told so little about. 

Part of her then regretted not walking in and introducing herself, even if she would’ve been the girl who wasn’t his girlfriend but he’d obviously fucked at some point. 

“Bah,” she exhaled, standing with the bags in hand again. 

A soft knock before opening his door, squeezing sideways with all the bags. 

“Callie?” he called, panic in his voice. 

She crossed the room quickly. “What, what’s wrong?”

“Who was here?” he barked, moving past the pain with a strained expression until he was on his feet. 

“What-”

“Who was it?” he demanded, clutching her arms. “Did they hurt you?” he questioned frantically, the bags having dropped to the floor around their feet as he spun her, his hands patting her down. 

“Nick what the hell?” she grunted, being spun again. 

“Did they hurt you? Did he put his hands on you?” he asked, pushing her fringe back and holding her face. Fear coated his rough voice as much as his face as he searched her for evidence of any kind of assault. 

“I’m fine, I’m okay,” she reassured, but his shaken nature remained. “Nick I’m alright,” she said softer, resting her hands over his. “C’mon, sit down,” 

It took literally prying his hands from her face to get him off his knee she sure was throbbing, but even then, he sniffed up her arms, his eyes jumping everywhere. 

“When did they come here?”

“After you left for the MRI, but nothing happened. We just talked,” she explained, pulling her chair before him. 

“What did they want?” 

“They wanna help. He was asking about what happened and-”

“Who?”

“Doghru,” she told him. If she'd ever questioned before if Orcs could pale, Nick's color was her answer. 

“He have scars on his face?” 

She nodded, and he steadied himself against her arms, shaking his head. “Remember me telling you about being shot?” he asked, shakily. “About being beaten and tied upside down?”

She remembered, and being unable to look away from the scar at the center of his chest that night. 

“He did it. He nearly killed me,” 

She was at loss for words, or any sense to piece together why he would be offering such protection, unless… 

“Over a wand?” 

His head snapped up, and she could basically hear his scattered thoughts racing to piece back together.

“So it’s true then?” she mumbled. Nick paused, but nevertheless nodded, pulling his hand down his face. 

“He seemed... not violent. Like he wanted to actually help-”

“It’s a cover, Callie. They’re fucking animals,” he barked. 

Her eyes narrowed. She knew this was fear that came across as anger, but her temper could be just as short as his. “One of them was with me today, though,”

He looked feral- like he could lung and fight, tear flesh from bone if need be. “What?”

“Dorghu has Fogteeth all around the hospital keeping tabs to make sure no one gets to you, and one of them has been with me all morning,”

It saddened her to see the realization on his face that it was all out of his control, but he _had_ to listen. He couldn’t keep thinking he could take on the world alone when it had almost taken him down twice. 

She scooted closer, holding his hands that clenched on and off in his lap. 

“We’re okay, Nick. They’re helping,”

“But you-”

“I know what he did, I know,” she held his face now. “But now they’re helping. Whether you like it or not, you’re Fogteeth. They’ll find the bastards that did this to you,” 

Nick dropped his head, taking a deep breath. “Please, please let them help you. You don’t have to do this alone,” she begged, bringing his face back up. 

“You’re here though,” he mumbled, leaning his cheek into her palm. “I don’t need anyone else’s help,” 

She smiled, although the deep caramel pools of her eyes swirled with worry. 

“I can’t fight orcs though,” she replied, both of them chuckling. 

They gazed at one another, her hands having moved to his to hold his as she waited with a bouncing knee. “Please,” she urged gently. Nick’s resolve was already in pieces around his feet, but he always had such a hard time pulling from her. 

With defeat lining his expression, he nodded, bringing her hands to his lips for a brief kiss. “For you, troublemaker,”

“Oh thank god,” she exhaled, standing to lock her arms around his neck carefully. “Thank you, thank you,” she chanted softly, holding steadfast against him. Nick rubbed her back with his good hand, more preoccupied with absorbing her embrace before she’d pull away. Sturdy like iron, but warm like a flame. 

“S’not like I can say no if they’re already all over the place,” he mumbled, squishing his face tighter into the spot between her shoulder and neck. _Let me stay here_. 

“No,” she backed up, holding his face and her thumbs tracing his carved cheeks. “But it’s easier when you’re compliant,”

“Mm,” he only hummed, quickly uncurling his finger from the belt loop of her jeans when she stepped back again. 

“So,” she snapped the hair tie from her wrist into the smallest ponytail he’d ever seen. “Ready for a bath?”

He swallowed, his lopsided brows furrowing. “I can wash myself,”

“Oh yeah? Can you reach your back with crooked ribs and a club hand?”

He mimicked her playfully, grabbing his bag of clothes when handed to him. 

“Oh!” She opened her bag, pulling a bundled item of clothing out. “I figured you’d want this back,” 

His LAPD long sleeve that she loved wearing, and he’d pretty much known had been left at her house all this time. Surely one of his more favored shirts, but he never had the heart to ask for it back, even after they’d broken up. 

“You could’ve kept it, I know you like it,” he told her, handing it back. She shrugged. 

“I already have like, five other shirts of yours,” she admitted sheepishly, earning a curious look from him. 

“That explains why I’ve only worn the same two shirts lately,”

“Yeah, same goes for my panties,” she covered with a yawn, walking to the bathroom. Nick looked away, awfully embarrassed. 

He’d completely forgotten he still had her underwear stashed in his top drawer that she _obviously_ would’ve had to go through. It occurred to him that saying anything in his defense would only add to his shame. “Sorry,” he said below his breath, nothing she could’ve picked up as she filled a bedside bucket full of water. 

Before he would pick an outfit though, he grabbed his returned shirt, and felt his eyes heavy. Before he even pressed it to his face, he could smell her all over it. He suppressed a loud moan when he inhaled deeply against the fabric, wondering if she kept it balled against her bare body when she slept without him beside her in her too small bed. 

Nick whined low, longing to curl around her small frame. 

He placed the shirt down, his hand lingering over it a moment before pulling sweats and a shirt out from his bag and snatching the remainder of the dried mango bits from his bedside table.

“Okay big guy,” she grunted, placing the small tub of soapy water beside him with a few hand towels. “Get naked,”

He eyed her, having not expected her to be so… forward. “Not even gonna ask me my name first before you try and get me into bed?” he tried. 

Callie smiled, and snorted, smacking his arm reservedly before rounding the bed to untie the strings lining his spine. “Keep your fiddly bits covered then, prude,”

“Yeah okay,” he chuckled with a cheekful, pulling the gown down his arms, snatching a towel to cover himself. 

She pushed her sleeves up, then dunking two of the hand towels in the warm water before handing him one. “Get what you can,” she instructed, returning to his back. 

He was damaged all over. So carefully she wiped across his bruised skin, softly apologizing when she’d accidentally gouge a bruise or shallow cut. It was hard to discern where natural coloring ended and bruises began, and adding the gauze patches on his sides proved challenging to keep water from dripping onto them. But it would be a blatant lie if she said she didn’t like having his muscles under her hands again. 

It took her back, far beyond the memories she usually allowed herself to indulge in. To warm nights, his solid body over hers with his eyes trained on where he loved her, and her hands running the length of his rippling back, always lingering on his narrow hips-

“I hate this thing already,” he grumbled, squeezing a finger under his splint to scrub as far in as he could. 

“Could’ve been a cast,” she grinned, dunking the towel again to ring and place over his head. He chuffed in appreciation, his shoulders shimmying as a warm shiver shot down his spine. He scrubbed his scalp as she finished his back and shoulders, stepping around the bed. Nick would hiss or grunt when he tried to wash his face, bumping his stitches or poking a cut. 

“Want me to get your face?” 

He nodded as he popped a few more pieces in his mouth, chewing slowly as she angled his face up, meticulously cleaning around his tender brows and the sore gashes that riddled him. 

“Stop chewing a sec,” she mumbled, holding one side of his face while she struggled to wipe away dried blood from the other. 

But he was watching her. The hardened concentration of her face as she meticulously wiped away the grime from his skin. He liked it when she’d smooth the soft pads of her fingers gently over his face, checking her work as she went along. His own hands had stilled from scrubbing his arms, now drooped over his thighs as he leaned this way and that way into her touch. 

Callie finally looked at him as he stared, and her eyes softened. 

“Ready for a nap?” she pulled the rag across his collarbones. His head shook, popping another dried mango piece into his mouth. 

“Content,” he intoned, lowering his head when her hands circled to the back of his neck. So when he started to purr softly as her hands shifted from cleaning to stroking, she almost couldn’t bare to bring him from such a calm state. 

“Nick?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any idea who could’ve done it? Even just the slightest?” She asked softly, both hands dragging nails up and down the back of his neck. 

“I’ve thought about it. Every time I think I know who it could be, it just seems like someone else could be more likely, or they just wouldn’t risk trying to take out someone like me,” he told her. 

“Who have you thought of?”

“People from work,”

She faltered, her face scrunching. “Do you really think someone would’ve?”

“That’s what I mean. I think of someone and then I’m like, really? Them?” 

Callie exhaled, absentmindedly holding onto his shoulders. Nick’s eyes rose to meet hers, and reached back to grab her hands in comfort when bearing witness to the clear torment painted across her features. 

“Cal?”

“There’s really nothing you remember? No details?” She implored, desperate to grasp onto anything that could lead them in the right direction. 

His eyes wandered down with nothing to offer. “I’m sorry,” 

“No, no no- I just,” she tensed as she searched for the right words, her mind simply in a state to _feel_ emotions rather than decipher them. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this and…” 

His ears flickered. 

“And it’s so fucking unfair that no one is doing anything about it,” she breathed, looking at his hands. “They should have answers and people coming here to talk to you but instead- I don’t even know! I wish there was something, any little piece of evidence so I could go fucking hunt them down!”

“Cal, calm down,” he moved to hold her forearms. 

“And- and I feel like it’s my fucking fault,” 

His brows pulled together, and he sat straighter. “Why would you even think that?”

Her chin and lip trembled, a film of tears glazing her eyes. “You always told me it could get worse, but I didn’t think it’d ever come to that. If I would’ve not pushed you to be so public-“

“No,” he interjected, reaching to hold her face, stifling a grunt when his ribs protested. “No, Callie. Nothing was your fault. Someone hated us both but I’m glad they came for me instead of you,”

“ _Nick_ ,”

“Don’t ever think it’s your fault. Ever,” he pressed, hopeful that she saw the sincerity as clearly as it sounded in his voice. 

But her heart was so heavy. It was near torture to think that if he would’ve been home with her that night, or even heading to her, maybe he could’ve avoided this. 

Instead, she nodded, keeping the grievous supposed's to herself. 

“If I wasn’t naked I’d hug you,” he murmured, and grinned when she smiled, wiping her damp eyes with the back of her hands. Nick watched her foot closely, knowing if it started to bounce it meant she wasn’t actually as calm as she appeared, but her heel was still, nor did she chew her lips as she grabbed the towel again and helped him finish. It didn’t occur to him until then that his recovery might be a strain on her more emotionally than physically, but still- he couldn’t find the selflessness inside himself to ask her to leave. 

Callie managed to snag another wheelchair after they’d finished and he was layered in actual clothing to take him around the hospital. Nick was largely active, and after being in bed for two days, he was itching to at least sit outside. 

She waited patiently as he sunbathed in the small garden and walkway behind the hospital, perched on a bench beside him with her chin in her palm, and a small smirk on her face as she watched him. With his eyes closed and chin tilted up, he looked like a cat napping in the sun. A mangled cat, but still cute as he savored the crisp breeze and radiant sunshine. 

“All you need is some whiskers,” she’d teased, drawing a flat _ha ha_ from Nick. 

Callie took him to a few more hidden corners of the hospitals, including the secret stash of fish tanks and wide contraptions that displayed the various routes that a rubber ball could make in a maze, nestled in the waiting room of the cardio wing, and of course, a trip down to the cafeteria to bulk up on more snacks that he'd plow through. 

Before they’d be forced back into his room though, he asked to be sat at the end of the hall outside his room beside the floor to ceiling windows, so he could just look. 

“Want me to leave you be?” 

“No- stay?” he asked, looking up at her with sleepy ambers. With a chair pulled beside his, they talked like they used to under the warm sun that filtered through the glass. 

He told her how he wondered how Ward was doing with a replacement partner, and that he had no idea how to even go about starting any thanks for finding him that morning, and mentioned that maybe him having a new partner might’ve been the best thing for him in lieu of a thank you. 

Callie asked him about his parents, and learned that though he was sure they had just been alarmed and panicked, he was still bothered that they thought he was intentionally avoiding them. It always came back to his decision to be a cop, and he wished they didn’t blame everything on that. That though he knew his parents supported him despite their constant worry for him, he wished they would ask _how was work_ , instead of _did anything happen at work today_? 

She so badly wanted to tell him about losing her job, and how her family had called and messaged her so much in the passing days that she’d had her phone off since she’d gotten back, but couldn’t utter the words. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes, with all the ache on him and the long road of recovery before him, and gush about her issues. 

So instead she listened, and held his hand as they sat in the sunshine until they were chased back in the room by nurses insisting they needed vitals. 

↠

Another dose of dilaudid was a welcome sensation. By the time they’d finished dinner, his side ached something fierce and his knee creaked and groaned. The fresh bedding was cold, but Callie had helped him shrug into a sweatshirt before throwing blankets over him. She wouldn’t tell him that she’d lowered the thermostat considerably just to keep him covered in bed. If she hadn’t, he’d be kicking everything off, overheated and asking for something that didn’t make him flush. 

His eyes dragged open when he heard the bathroom door open, and raised his heavy head to watch her come out in pajamas and drag the chair next to his bed after turning the lights out. 

She kicked her blanket down her legs, pulling the other end around her shoulders and wiggling down into the seat. 

“That can’t be comfy,” he mumbled, suddenly aware to just how cozy he was without continuous pain making it difficult to sometimes talk. She shrugged, shifting this way and that. 

“Ll’call a nurse to bring in a cot,” he groaned, trying to roll backwards and reach for the remote. 

“Stay still and go to sleep, I’m okay,” she urged, pulling him back. “See now I have to get comfy again,”

He grumbled, smacking his lips a couple times. “You need a hammock,”

She snorted. “The same one we never set up?”

“Y’mean th’same one you bought without knowin’ if it would even work?” he only had one eye open now, his breathing slowing. 

“You have trees in your backyard,” she griped; they’d had this dispute at least fifty times before.

“Lemon trees, you dingus,” he carped lowly, chuffing when he pressed his face into the pillow. 

Callie remained silent, knowing when he buried his face like that it meant he was about to sail off; he’d done it against the back of her neck and chest so many times. 

She stifled a groan when she adjusted in the chair. It really wasn’t comfortable at all. 

But he was finally at peace again, even with the ice pack draped over his knee that he hated. Most of the day she’d caught the visible twinges of discomfort that would make his body lock up momentarily, or his eyes squinting, sometimes his hand tapping something impatiently. So for him to be motionless, and quiet- it must’ve been quite the relief to finally have the pain medications again. Seeing him so high was a bonus, too. 

Callie shifted a few times before finally finding something near bearable in the stiff chair, but fully expected a neck and back ache when she’d wake in the morning. 

She glanced at the clock; only five hours before the nurses would come in for their ass-crack of dawn vitals check and shift change. If she could stay still enough, she could fall asleep, but it was hard when she really wanted to stretch across a bed.

First it was stilling her shaking foot, than her plucking fingers, and at last her nibbling teeth against her inner cheeks. One, bye one, bye one, her eyes gradually drooping the longer she stared at Nick. 

The room was cold, but she couldn’t care to cover up more. Sleep was finally rocking her, slowly, carefully pulling her under. 

 

His thundering bellow lurched her awake, her eyes being the last to process what was happening as she listened to him yell. 

Nick was arched off the bed, his covers thrown and sweat lining his brow, his entire body rigid, somewhere between sobbing and begging. 

“Nick! Nick look at me what’s wrong?” Callie panicked, turning his face to find his eyes were pinched shut. 

_Nightmare_. 

“Nick- baby wake up! It’s just a dream wake up!” She shouted over him, pushing his chest down while she called to him, but he was so strong! It was like shoving against a wall. 

“Nick! **Nick**!” She yelled over him, finally shaking his head enough to get his eyes to open. 

They snapped open, wide in terror, his arms flailing and hands flying to grab for anything as he plummeted from his nightmare. He found Callie before him, helping him lean towards her as he whined loudly; both pain and torment plagued him in wakefulness. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she hushed gently, witnessing his mind struggle to acclimate to real life. It was glaringly obvious something viscous had seeped in while he slumbered, shaking his calm state enough to still leave him in a frame of mind that was far from peaceful. "Are you awake? Are you here?" she asked, her thumbs wiping the tears that had rolled down his cheeks. 

“Cal-“ he croaked, pressing his face against his inner arm. “What baby? Tell me,” she tried, tugging on his hands, but he couldn’t look at her. 

“It was happening all over again, except to you too,” he wavered. “It felt so real and you- you were there screaming and I couldn’t do anything,” 

Callie could cry. The way he looked up at her; like she was a miracle that had materialized before him. Now sleep wouldn’t even bring him peace, it seemed. 

“I’m okay,” she reassured, her arms atop his shoulders when he drew her into a crushing embrace, his head under her chin. “We’re both okay,”

He nodded, giving the weakest ‘mhm’. How would he ever feel easy falling asleep again after witnessing that? His hands held her sides tighter, her pressure against him affirming she was still alive, and in _one_ piece. But he couldn't stop trembling, or halt his mind from going back to the clear as day images he started to feel nauseous from. 

“Do you wanna try and lay down?” She asked, cupping the back of his head when he looked up at her to shake his head. 

“C’mon,” she urged, managing to get his arms from around her and scooting him away. He groaned when he tried laying on his side again. 

“Over here then,” 

He rolled, slowly, the ache of his jolted body starting to catch up to him before she crawled over his legs, and slipped her feet under the covers to lay down beside him. She brought him back to her chest, mindful of the stitches on his face, kissing the top of his head when he squeezed her tight against him. 

“You’re okay, baby,” she repeated, softly, rubbing his back when he exhaled shakily. “I promise you’ll be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> -"Iav wauk noav avhe LA Ivorys,": "It was not the LA Ivorys," (another clan name I conjured up buehehehe)  
> -'puukukausan’ and ‘hungrausan': 'pussy' and 'hungry' 
> 
> So the next time I update is unknown as of now, but I'll try to keep it as frequent as possible n_n thanks to everyone who's stuck around this long and still does with all my indecisiveness!


	12. Lures

“Try it with the cane,”

He shook his head, face scrunching and arms jerking upwards with every bitter step on his tender knee. Callie rolled her eyes, a single index finger rotating the cane beside her, but Nick lashed out his harshest glares everytime he laid eyes on it. 

“Y’know it’s only temporary,”

“Until I rely on it,” he argued. She snorted, meeting his strained eyes as he finished another lap around the room. 

“You become more stubborn everyday, chato,”

He stopped in front of her, taking half a wobbling step closer to flick her hand before snatching the cane. “Shut up,” he said halfheartedly, already gliding easier across the room with it to lean on. 

“You gonna deny that’s easier?”

“Till the day I die,” he breathed, turning on his heel to start another lap. Back and forth he went, everyday building the resistance of his damaged knee back. He’d wished he could wander the halls, but as long as he was a fall risk, he was to either stay confined to his room or walk with a nurse, both of which he disliked immensely. 

On his last pass, he noticed Callie’s brows furrowed in sympathy, the beginnings of a silly smirk forming.

“Don’t say it,” he snapped; now she was smiling.

“I mean it in a loving way,” she piped, scooting back against the bathroom door.

“Calling me old isn’t nice,” he glared sideways, stopping in front of her. 

“You call me ‘shorty’ all the time,”

“Cause that’s cute. Viejo ain’t,” he battled, and she smiled. 

“You pronounced that really well,”

He stood a little taller, cocking a brow. “Don’t try and get on my good side,” he mumbled, wobbling away. 

“As long as I’m taking care of you you better keep me on your good side,” she challenged, pulling her lips in when he looked back at her. 

“Someone’s feisty today,”

Her head cocked. “Says you-”

A few soft knocks on his door turned them, and in came Margaret, her wild curls twisted into a loose braid over her shoulder. 

“Good to see you up and walking,” she grinned, pumping hand sanitizer onto her palms. 

“Almost done with his fifteen laps,” Callie told her proudly, winking at Nick when he glanced at her. 

“Good, very good. How’s the ribs?”

Nick shrugged, hobbling to his bed. “Bearable at best,”

She nodded indifferently, weighing her hands. “Keep icing, and don’t be neglecting those breathing exercises. You’ll wish you were in a coma over having pneumonia with cracked ribs,” she explained, slipping gloves on. “Okay big guy, take a seat,”

The vision in his eye was nearly restored, the gashes on his face no longer swelled tremendously, and he could at last eat normal food without the cuts in his mouth causing too much misery. The stitches across him would dissolve, as the bruises would fade, but his hand and knee were the main focus. 

“I think we can move onto buddy tape for this,” she mumbled, unwrapping his hand from the old bandaging. Nick exhaled, bending his wrist and scratching the damp skin that hid driven him mad the past days. There was still a notable twinge of discomfort if he tried to make a fist, but he’d silence his complaints if it meant having most of his hand back. 

“You’re looking good, so I’d say bet on going home sometime tomorrow,” she told him, and Callie grinned when his ears flicked. 

“Still get that doctors note?” he asked, his eyes heavy from the euphoria of scratching all over his wrist. 

“Absolutely. Do you two still have an arrangement, or should I contact nursing?” she asked, but Callie shook her head. 

“Still good,” she answered.

“Alright then. Hang out another night and we’ll get you going home tomorrow, unless you do something foolish like fall again,” Margaret cleared her throat, now recognizing Nick’s low growls as all bark and no bite. 

Callie pushed off the door when his doctor departed with her pager in hand, wandering over to Nick who was purposely avoiding eye contact. She pushed his foot with hers, and he looked at her from the corner of his eye. 

“We’ll go for a walk when you’re done,” she bribed, and he rotated his head back, leaving it hanging as he stood. She chuckled, pulling her jacket off her arms to leave her in her tank-top. Nick’s sweater was next, carefully pulling it up and over his head, moving slowly as he did and placing his beanie back on his head once his top was bare. 

“Arms up,” she instructed, raising hers in a flexing motion as he did his. One eye pinched shut as they both rotated their bent arms back, drawing shoulder blades together as he followed her deep breathing pattern. In as they stretched back, out as they brought their elbows together. Nick grunted, sometimes twitching as the tensed muscle across his ribs protested. 

At the sight of his biceps tightening, she smirked. “Tryin’ to flex on me officer?”

Nick snorted. “Says you, showing off those arms,” he snipped back, still wincing. 

“It’s all show, you know I can barely lift a gallon of milk. Okay next ones,” she told him, stepping closer as his hands clasped on the top of his head. 

With little pressure, she laid her palms flat over his ribs, maintaining when he drew in deep breaths that expanded his ribcage, then gradually let his breath go, relaxing the tender muscle until there was nothing left in him. 

“These are worse,” he strained, his teeth bared in discomfort. 

“They’re the more crucial ones though,” she mentioned, feeling the muscle spasm under her fingers as he drew in the deep breaths. “Didn’t think I’d ever see a purple Orc,” she played, pulling her shoulder in when he tugged on her earlobe. 

Callie wouldn’t say it out loud, but she relished in watching the muscles of his chest and stomach as well as his ribs glide over bone when he stretched and exercised. She was always fascinated by the body he hid under his uniform, convinced that if any girl had chance at taking their own peak of him, they’d reconsider their decision to not date him. 

“Okay I’m done,” he groaned, starting to lower his arms. 

“Did more than last night,” she encouraged, patting his hip. 

“‘Scuse me while I pass out now,” he mumbled, sitting on his bed before easing onto his back, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Tired?” 

He nodded, a tense yawn following. 

Callie sat beside him, her knees pulled up to rest her arms over, her fingers drumming against her wrist. “We should tell Margaret about the nightmares,” 

“What nightmares?” He mumbled, flinching when she smacked his thigh. “They’re not that bad,” 

“Nick,” 

He looked at her, and her brows raised in knowing. “You _scream_ ,” 

He opened his mouth to protest, but it would be a lie, because he could never escape the nightmares that played out before his eyes even while he was awake. The ones that had him breaking out in cold sweats, and screaming for Callie every night, fearful to fall back asleep. 

“She can’t do anything about them anyways,” he sighed. 

“Maybe a therapist can,”

“Therapy isn’t going to take back what happened, Cal,”

It was true, which is why she stayed quiet, her cheek rested on her arm as she looked at him. 

She’d never deny holding him at night and hushing him to sleep, but over everything, she wanted him to just rest. To find that escape at night, away from the painful recovery that wakefulness brought him. 

“I’m sorry,” she intoned, meeting his eyes when he turned his head against the bed. 

“Don’t be,” he mumbled, unable to pull from her gaze; the balmy, swirling pool of her caramel eyes that made him warmer the longer he lingered, constantly tempted to again bring forth the shift in depth of their color when he’d kiss her. Staring at her vanquished the unrest of his heart, all the fear that now made up his spine, but how he so wished to grab her face and just feel her mouth against his again- to breathe in those soft mewls of hers. 

Callie’s heart was hammering, wondering if he could smell the heat of her skin heightening the longer she watched his eyes dilate. She wanted his fangs to drag across her neck. She wanted his bruises and bites over her again. 

She wanted to pull his body over hers and offer an escape when nightmares tried to pull him under. 

“Still wanna go for a walk?” She asked instead, her voice soft. He nodded, his tongue lapping against the roof of his mouth when her scent blew past him as she stood. 

_You’re wet_ , is what he wanted to say. 

But he remained silent, able to keep his eyes on her in unwavering fashion now that she avoided looking at him. It was damn near impossible to resist grabbing her shoulders and spinning to push her onto the narrow bed, but once he was sat in the wheelchair with the cane in his lap, the desire once again became dormant. 

They always visited the garden outside to give him the chance to sunbathe, now with his Clubmasters she’d gone to pick up for him, and always they talked when they wandered or sat, often a snack in his hand. 

Nick started spotting the other Orcs hanging around precariously in random places they visited, sometimes chuffing loudly as he wheeled by. Callie would smack his shoulder, not fully understanding the attitude he dished out when they were near, but to understand that would mean telling her that since his scent had finally left her, she was open game again. And since it was now known she had laid with Orc, others had become interested in the human girl. 

Nick recognized it; the way some of them would puff their chests or raise their tusks proudly, showing off their length. 

He had neither tusks or strength, and no grounds to declare she was his any longer, but something deep in his gut wouldn’t allow them to even try and sway her. It’s what pushed him to sometimes growl and chuff, and glare hatefully when they eyed her. If he thought on it too hard, he had to dig his nails into his own palm to resist crawling over her and burying himself inside her delicious cunt. 

_You’re not a fucking animal_ , he’d remind himself. 

But everything about her he desired _was_ animalistic. 

As were the watchful gazes that followed her as she moved across the cafeteria, completely oblivious with a tray of food in hand and her debit card between her teeth. 

“They had those disgusting turkey sandwiches you like,” she declared, sitting down beside him. 

He only grumbled, his cheek rested in his palm as he opened the packaging with his teeth. Her brows furrowed, her hands stilling as she watched him angrily arrange his sandwich, tossing aside the wilted lettuce and squeezing mayonnaise onto the meat. 

“Not feeling yourself?” she questioned, only receiving a shrug as he bit into his sandwich. 

“We can go back to the room if you wanna lay down,”

“Not tired,” he answered. 

She nodded, peeling a banana. “How’s the sandwich? Still disgusting?” 

“This time yeah,” he sighed, looking at it distastefully after taking another bite. 

Callie swallowed when he looked at her, his cheek again rested in his palm. “Then what? You seem… off,” she asked, her voice faltering. 

“Jiak wanav avo fuck lat par avhe avable righav now buav jiak can’av,” he said quickly, and she rolled her eyes. 

“English please,” 

He grabbed the sandwich again, realizing saying it out loud didn’t help ease any of the pressure in his body. He also knew he was being childish, and hard to handle, yet couldn’t suppress the upset in himself when he felt he needed to keep her locked in his room beside him so no one- 

_“Those people you swear are itching to fuck with us aren’t even mildly threatening until you get in their faces and start shit, Nick.”_

It stopped the rampage of his heart and mind. He looked at her; patient, and still by his side even though she’d grown tired of his shit once already. 

He was doing it again. He was withdrawing, and becoming the possessive freak who didn’t give her room to breathe. But even if he explained why, would she believe him? _She didn’t last time…_

“I’m hangry,” he mumbled, his lip curling when she grinned at him. 

_You don’t have to lie to me, Nick_. “Had a feeling,” she cooed, sliding him a cup of diced watermelon. “I know these aren’t as good as yours, but they’re still juicy,” she teased, giggling when he smacked her arm gently. 

He couldn’t allow himself to cage her again. If it came to her falling for someone else, no matter how shattered he’d be, he couldn’t keep her locked away. She was doing this out of the kindness of her heart. 

_It doesn’t mean she still has anything for you either, moron._

She knew something troubled him. Possibly all the Fogteeth around, judging by his vicious snarls and cutting glares, but Nick wouldn’t lash out without good reason. Something was aggravating him. 

↠

He was already curled in bed, watching the TV sleepily when she came from the bathroom, steam billowing out. He didn’t move from his side to watch her go about applying lotion to her exposed skin, skipping over her tattoos since she’d stayed in hospital with him. 

_They won’t fade in the days we’re here, it’s no big deal_ , she’d said, but Nick knew how adamant she was about keeping them vibrant. 

“That was the quickest you’ve ever finished your ritual,” he muffled against his pillow, scoring a smart smile from her. 

“Ha ha,” she played, pulling her sleeves down. “Already got your meds?” She asked, pulling the covers up to his hips.

“Mhm,”

“Good, scoot over,” she told him, and his eyes cracked open curiously. 

“Every night I end up in bed with you anyways, so scoot,” she urged, a knee resting on his bed as he wiggled backwards, grunting softly. “Don’t you poke me again either,” she added. 

Nick snorted. “I can’t help it,” 

“Don’t stretch then,” she exhaled, cozying up to him, their forearms touching as she situated deeper into the bedding while he laid the blankets over her. He pulled in deep breaths of her, his skin lightening with shivers. 

“You smell good,” he murmured, his ears flicking when she giggled. 

“I still feel smelly,” 

_I wish you still smelled like me_. “You’re not, trust me,”

“Yeah like you’d tell me if I stank,” He glared questioningly at her. “You used to like it when I smelled sweaty,” 

He hid his face, earning another giggle. “That’s different,” Nick slurred. 

When she continued to laugh, he adjusted his head closer, her face half hidden by her hand and eyes pinched shut in humor. 

“What?” He couldn’t help but grin. 

“Do you remember when we went to Roberto’s at like 2 am but we got too drunk to drive home?”

He snorted. “So we walked?” 

“It took us 2 hours and it was so hot!” She smiled. 

“N’ you kept falling everywhere,” 

“And then we got home and we were all sweaty and miserable and realized I forgot my phone?” 

“That night was a fucking disaster,” he groaned, shaking his head against the bedding. But they still both smirked, both of their eyes heavying the longer they gazed, transfixed by the calm around them and lulled by one another’s warmth. 

“It wasn’t a complete disaster later on,” she whispered. 

No, it wasn’t. Even if it took far too long to strip her that night, it had been one of his fondest to look back on. How they kept going, and going, and going all through the night, shouting each other’s name with every brilliant climax. 

Nick ran the pad of his thumb over her chin. “I think we slept for 18 hours after that,” he chuckled, and she laughed also, burrowing her blushing cheeks downwards, her cold nose pressed against his hand. 

There was a drawn silence between them; her soft breath brushing over his hand as their knees shifted, maneuvering closer. Eventually she looked back up, noting the visible shift in the temper of his eyes. 

“Drugs kicking in?” She asked, and he nodded slowly, licking his lips. “You gonna start singing again?” 

“I’s _serenading_ you,” he corrected sleepily, readjusting his head. 

“Oh really?” He nodded again, yawning, baring the points of his sharp teeth she liked to run her tongue under. “Exactly when did Skeletonwitch become songs to sing in that form?” 

“Since iss your favorite band, dummy,” he grinned, grumbling a little. 

“So thoughtful,” 

He started humming, his face conveying utter seriousness as he tuned along her favorite song, his hand even grabbing hers to sway this way and that. Callie smiled, watching him stumble around the words and even wiggle a little bit, all the while his eyes locked with hers. 

Nick slowed back down to soft humming when she held his face, on the verge of kissing him the more vibrant his eyes became, a deeper brilliance of gold. 

Even in his inebriated state, he saw it. The way she parted her lips, how her cheeks flushed. Nick didn’t even need to scent her to know that she was squeezing her thighs together for one reason only. 

He swallowed, his eyes coming back up. 

“You should sleep,” she whispered, her heart kicking up. 

Nick’s ambers dragged down, following the curve of her collarbones to her cleavage between the unbuttoned seems of her black thermal. “I’ll have nightmares,” he unconsciously admitted, apprehension nowhere to be seen on him as he dragged a fingertip lightly over her chest.

Her eyes fluttered, exhaling. “You won’t have any while I’m here,” she breathed, her body close to vibrating. It ached so deeply in her bones, to every tip of her fingers and toes. Her hands slid flat downwards to his chest, fingertips pressing into the solid muscle. 

“I still won’t sleep,” He slurred, pushing open her shirt with his finger, barely grazing beside her nipple. 

She whimpered, her mouth falling open as he craned his neck; he could feel her breath against his mouth. 

The door behind them opened, and they both stiffened when footsteps approached. 

“I really thought I was gonna come in and catch you two doin’ it or something. His heart rate is all over the place out there- don’t get him too worked up,” his night nurse, Rosalyn, barked, peeking cautiously over them. 

“We’re fully clothed,” Callie rolled her eyes, more disappointed than anything. 

“Mhm,” she pursed her lips. “I’ve seen some people get creative ‘round here. You good Officer?” She asked. 

Callie withheld rolling her eyes again; it was obvious to her when he was faking sleeping, but guessed it was enough to fool others. “I was making him laugh,” Callie defended, eyeing Rosalyn. 

“Mhm,” she only mumbled, cocking a brow as she left the room. 

Callie pulled a hand down her face, laying back down. “She’s gone now,” 

Nicks eye cracked open before he peeked behind himself, then looking back to Callie. It was simmering again; the desire that so often raged like a wildfire and threatened to burn them alive in close moments like that. But it was still on her- coated like a wet sheet. He wanted to taste it pooling between her thighs. 

“Lets sleep, yeah?” Callie rolled on her other side, holding his arm when it curled around her waist. “And don’t poke me in the morning.”

“Don’t stick your ass out when you stretch then.” He grinned, his face masked against her hair. He flinched when she pinched his arm. 

She did her best to even her breathing and calm the unrest in her limbs, but all over she burned for him.

It only became harder to resist it. They were both crawling towards a brilliant lure; one that promised release, and comfort, at least in the moment. They both knew it would end with more conflict and questions than before, but the closer they became again, the harder it was to keep composed. 

Every night proved more difficult than the last. It had started with holding hands, and crawling into bed with him when he’d wake from night terrors, but never ended at that. They’d both wake up periodically, sometimes just gazing at one another and touching the others face. Knees would overlap and sometimes his wide palm would rest over her hip, his thumb moving under her shirt to caress her warm skin. He’d watch her; eyes closing and breath heavying, her fingers curling into the bedding, waiting for him to move farther, but he never did. 

How could they approach this clear desire when so much was still untold? 

_Do you still love me?_ Nicks’ thumb stroked her stomach, his eyes not yet shut as a strange sensation churned in his gut. It was almost sad having her pressed against him, so close, yet unable to worship her how he wished. _I love you so much, Callie_. He burrowed his face down, exhaling slowly. 

_Just touch me so we can go back to how it used to be_. Callie grinned at herself. _That won’t solve anything, stupid_. 

She pulled his hand up, fisting it under her chin, sighing when he situated tighter against her back. Like a shield of warmth, cradling her from the thoughts that threatened to send her into blind panics. _Tell me you want it to be like it was again. Tell me you love me so I can tell you_. 

“Tomorrow I’ll sing Gorgoroth.” He mumbled, both of them laughing at the thought. 

_I love you, Cal_. 

_I love you, Nick_.

* * *

“Keys?” 

She pulled them from her bag, shaking them. “Keys,”

“Work excuse?” 

She waved the papers, also sliding her sunglasses on. 

“By the time you’re done I should be ready to go,” he yawned, rubbing his head. 

“Take a nap before we leave too,” 

He shook his head. “I can manage picking the rest up,” 

Callie nodded, ready to head out. “I’ll be back soon then,” she poked his arm. “Don’t wander around.” 

He lifted his hands in defeat, grinning when she winked at him before departing. She pulled her jacket on as she made her way down the hall, nodding at an Orc that was sat in the waiting corner of the neuro wing. 

The elevator was empty for once, but before the doors could close, a patterned hand stopped them. 

“Morning,” she grinned at Matuk, who found his place beside her with his hands in his pockets. 

“Calista,” he nodded politely. 

“ _Callie_ ,” she corrected, slipping her bag over her shoulder after curling a scarf around her neck. “Guess you won’t be stuck in a hospital anymore,” 

He shrugged. “Don’t mind it. Better than being out in the cold,” 

“Can’t imagine it being any less boring though,” 

“You’d be surprised how dull people watching can be. Something is always going on in a hospital, though,” he explained. 

She nodded, both of them looking at the doors when the elevator dinged. 

“Where are you off to?” He asked, walking beside her. She thought that was a bit… odd. He’d normally trail at a distance. 

“Police station to drop off his work excuse. You coming with?” She pulled her jacket tighter around her when the harsh whip of cold wind flew in from the front entrance. 

“I’ll be around,” Even he pulled his beanie down, farther than his ears. 

“Stick around close enough and I’ll buy you lunch again,” she smirked. 

He adjusted his Fogteeth sweater, his lips pursing between his impressive tusks as they made their way through the parking structure. He always managed to park beside Nicks truck, even if she’d find parking between two other cars.

“That sub place again?” He asked as she rounded the bed of the truck. 

“For sure.” She grinned, both of them climbing into their cars. 

She cranked the heater and connected her phone as she waited for the engine to warm up, her foot tapping the gas every so often to rev it. She’d gotten over the sense of feeling rushed after the second day of being tailed by Matuk. He never harassed or hurried her, but she’d made sure to recognize that she appreciated his protection, whether it was buying him food when she was out doing errands or something warm to drink at night when he sat in the hospitals hallways. 

The drive across town was pleasant. Her mood was chipper that morning; Nick finally got to go home, which meant no more buying hospital food or dealing with nurses checking in every hour. 

That also meant no interruptions. 

That thought hung heavy over her. Sure they wouldn’t be in as close proximity, but the way they’d been leaning towards those past days… 

She exhaled slowly, loosening the scarf around her neck. She had to calm down before she exited the car; she could handle knowing Nick knew when she was aroused, but not Matuk. She didn’t want it getting back to other Fogteeth. 

The prescient was dull per the usual, the parking lot particularly empty that morning after she’d parked. 

“Not gonna come with?” She smiled at Matuk, who glared flatly. 

The same old holiday decorations that had collected dust were still hung sparsely in corners, but at least there wasn’t another huddle of men behind counter she’d have to face. Only a lone woman today, her hair pulled back into a sleek bun. Callie tried not to judge too harshly just by her critical expression, because she had resting bitch face too, but everyone here that worked alongside Nick made her apprehensive. 

“I’m here to drop off a work excuse slip for Nick Jakoby,” Callie explained, pulling it from her bag. 

The woman- Ruiz, looked it over, her brow arched critically. 

“Six weeks?” She asked. Callie’s posture stiffened, ready to lash out in defense of Nick if she commented any further. Her barely concealed smirk alone had her itching to grab her by the hair and smash her face into the counter. 

“Wait here,” Ruiz told her, walking to the office behind the counter. 

Callie rolled her shoulders; this place made her fidgety. There was too much hatred, and far too little diversity. Where was the welcoming environment police stations were supposed to exude? 

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket, and she groaned, ready to face another paragraph from her sisters; it was Nick. 

**How’s it going?**

**Almost done, be back soon**

“That’s her, isn’t it?” She heard someone say lowly. Her eyes rose, but her head remained down, listening. 

“Nah, different hair,”

“That’s fucking her, bro!” 

“Think if she fucks orcs I can get her to suck my cock?” 

She bit her inner cheek, her nails digging into her palm after putting her phone away. _Stay calm, don’t say shit_. She couldn’t put Nicks reputation on the line just cause of a few dickheads talking shit. No way in hell she’d make it harder for him- 

“I guess if she’s here that means he lived. Too bad.” 

She snapped in their direction, her eyes wild with fury. They pretended to be occupied, covering their shit smiles, but she was already stomping towards them, shoving the one closest to her.

“Don’t you ever talk about him that way again you sorry son of a bitch,” she spat, inclining to get right in his face. 

“Step back or I’ll-“

“What’d he ever do to you, huh? You guys are such thin skinned fucking racists you gotta take everything out on him!” 

She came rubber-banding back when one shoved her away, her limbs tingling to swing. 

“He stick a baby in you? That why you’re hanging around? Escorts don’t have health insurance?” He laughed, causing a stir in the other ones. 

Callie rocked back onto her heel as her elbow swung back, but before she could swing her fist into his sharp jaw, strong arms had her around her waist, pulling her back. 

“Callie stop!” Ward yelled, struggling to keep her still as she squirmed in his hold, screaming at the top of her lungs in Spanish. 

The three men were equally yelling, either in insults or egging her on, their taunting smiles throwing her into a rage she’d never felt before. Ruiz reappeared, yelling over the commotion, trying to shut everyone up. 

“Callie _stop_!” He finally got her down, stepping in front of her when she moved side to side, heaving breaths slurring her speech. “Go back to Nick,” 

“Yeah go back to your animal-“ 

She lurched forward to attack again, but bigger arms caught her this time. Ones that were attached to a lumbering figure, silencing the taunting and turning Ward and Ruiz’s attention. 

“Not here,” Matuk said lowly, effortlessly pulling her back even though she kept moving in his hold. “Calista let’s go,” 

Ward looked between Callie and Matuk. He knew Nick was Fogteeth, but that didn’t explain why one of their towering members was there, and knew her by name. 

He only let her down once she’d stopped fighting, yanking from his hold, but she still lingered, her killer gaze set on the men who’d since gone quiet as they stared at the Orc beside her. 

“Get the fuck out of here,” Ward jerked his chin outwards, eyeing the Orc once again, his brilliant eyes jumping from face to face. 

“C’mon,” Matuk motioned, pushing Callie towards the door, keeping his body between them until they were outside. 

“Man why the fuck you defending that pigskin-“ 

“Cause she’s fucking right. Why can’t y’all pull your heads out of your asses? What’d he ever do to you?” Ward fired back, spinning on his heel. 

“Ward-“ Ruiz tried. 

“He coulda snitched on all of you. When you, and you- motherfucker, all of you fucked with his shit and tore his locker up, even the shit with the cruiser, but he didn’t. He’s a fuckin’ partner. Don’t matter if he’s a goddamn Orc. Remember that the next time he’s covering your asses with a loaded gun.” Daryl snapped, giving each their own share of his hateful glare before walking away, leaving them looking at one another. 

It had never been so glaringly obvious before that just how much Nick put up with. Looking at it day to day, he always thought _ah, he’ll be okay_. But collectively, now targeting Callie- it wasn’t about rivalries. It was about racism. 

 

“Are you okay?” Matuk asked, walking behind her. 

“I’m fine,” 

“You don’t-“ 

“I’m fucking _fine_ ,” she snapped, digging in her bag for the keys. He didn’t ask after that, and instead rounded the front of his own car. Callie finally managed to find them at the bottom of her bag, simultaneously fighting the burn behind her eyes where tears threatened to spill over. 

But a folded scrap of paper wedged beside the drivers side window stopped her. Her eyes scanned, her body remaining still as she hesitantly opened it. 

**Lat nexav**

“Matuk?” She called, turning to hand him the paper when he rushed to her side. His hairless brow furrowed, his head then snapping up to swivel in all directions. 

“What’s it say?” 

“You’re next,” He mumbled, sniffing the paper. The hairs on her arms and neck stood on ends, her eyes now jumping in every direction. 

“Get in the car, stay put a sec.” He instructed, ushering her inside and motioning to lock the doors. She waited, watching, her hands fisted tightly in her lap as he spoke to someone over his phone. His eyes moved to her a few times, but whatever he was speaking of, he must’ve deemed it private enough even from her when he moved to the back of his SUV. 

Callie stopped watching him through the rear view mirror. Her leg was bouncing erratically; she wanted to be inside somewhere, not in front of the fucking police station. Somehow she felt it was the least safest place to be. 

_‘I guess he lived. Too bad.’_

Her face scrunched, an onslaught of raw hatred rushing her. The heels of her palms dig into her eyes. 

_Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry-_

But it fell from her in a succession of choked sobs and hiccups. She grabbed the steering wheel and screamed, shaking herself back and forth, her palms ringing with pain when she struck it over and over again. Harsh breaths fought past her clenched teeth, hot tears running down her cheeks. With her forehead against the wheel and her hands gripping it, the last of the tantrum faded, now a low rumble in her heart. 

Sniffles and steadying sighs filled the quiet space of the car, her short curls stuck to her damp cheeks as she collected her spilled emotions. 

Soft knocks on windows didn’t startle her, but she didn’t look up either. “Yeah?” She rasped. 

“Can I help?” Matuk asked through the glass. She shook her head, pinching her eyes tighter. 

“Can we leave now?” She asked. 

He stepped around nervously. Should he... hug her or something? “Yeah- stay on the main roads.” He told her, moving back to his car. 

With a final exhale, she sat up, pushing her hair back into the hood of her jacket. Her face was wiped with the back of her hands, but there was nothing she could do about her red eyes already swelled or puffy lips. 

Nick would know. Even if she hadn’t of cried, he’d still know. 

“Okay.” She breathed, shaking her head. _Go back to Nick_. 

She drove without music; she wanted her thoughts to be her company. Deeply she needed the time to herself, to come to terms with the danger now posed at her, and how to keep it masked in front of Nick. If he knew about the threat, he’d send her away, and either of them alone would surely be an end for both. So she’d keep this between herself and Matuk, assuming he hadn’t told Nick. 

Even though the busiest streets were littered with people and potholes, she navigated them calmly. Any backroad or silent neighborhood she’d usually take as a shortcut looked menacing now. What car or person was around a corner waiting for her? 

Matuk waited by her door when she slid down the drivers seat, taking a passing glance at her reflection in the window. 

_Wow, you look like shit that’s been dragged through more shit_. 

“Can we not tell Nick about this?” Callie asked him, hoping the cold breeze rolling by would calm some of the red in her cheeks. 

“Why’s that?” 

“He’s already uncooperative. Telling him will make it a nightmare to work with him,” she fibbed, chewing her bottom lip. Matuk nodded, and she could see his hard jaw clenching in thought. 

“If you insist, don’t go outside without one of us nearby. Even if it’s just to the car. Someone slipped by fast enough while we were both inside, so they must’ve been following since we left,” he explained lowly, nodding at another member by the front doors. 

“They could still be around?” She asked, and he sighed, nodding. 

He walked her all the way to Nick's room, patting her shoulder before he left. Another breath to compose herself, and she walked in. 

“Ready to bounce?” She asked, a forced smile curling her mouth. 

“Yeah I just… need,” Nick faltered, his arm dropping from pointing at something across the room when he noticed her swollen eyes and overall uneasy demeanor. “Callie?” He called, but she was already zipping his duffel up and puling the go bags beside one another. 

“Did they discharge you or do you have to wait?” She asked, glancing at him. 

His stomach churned. “No,” he whined, grabbing her hand before she could move away. “What did they do?” He held her arms, desperately searching her sad eyes for the truth. 

Her head dropped, face tightening. _Don’t fall apart, you weak thing_. “Nothing,” she chose. 

“Calista- look at me,” he said firmly. Her eyes jumped to his, already glossy. “Tell me,” 

“They’re just… mean. I don’t know how you stand working there,” she chose, wanting to stay as far away from specifics as possible. 

“Mean to who?” 

“Me, but it’s not a big deal. I’m not sad, I’m angry,” she exhaled, wiping her eyes again. 

“Who- what’d they say? Who said what?” he pressed, following her movements when she tried to look away. 

“Shit they’ve always said before but they were like… making a joke out of it. I just got mad,” she rushed.

“Then why do you smell like Ward and another orc?”

_Fuck_. Nick’s sense of smell was sharp as ever. 

Her head dropped, a tear dropping from her pinched eyes when her hand covered her face. 

“Callie,” His tone was forlorn, but he wouldn’t release her arms until she told him. He knew sending her off alone into a wolf's den like that meant risking abuse aimed at her, but he’d figured she’d come back unscathed like always. So what had happened this time?

With a grunt, he stood, ignoring the soreness of his knee. Nick’s wide hands cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away the thin tears under her eyes. “Tell me,”

Her chin puckered and lip trembled. “They said stuff about you,” she wavered, holding his arms.

His eyes softened. “That’s all?”

“What d’you mean- they’re fucking ruthless! The things they say how do you stand working there?”

“Oh Cal,” he exhaled, resting his forehead against hers. He was relieved; he thought she was going to reveal that she’d been assaulted, or an advance had been made at her. Either of which would’ve resulted in him surely going to prison; there would’ve been one or several deaths at the precinct. “Why do you smell like them?”

“I got mad and tried to hit another cop,” 

His snort was involuntary, but not kissing her forehead. “Troublemaker,”

_Thank fucking christ he bought it_. “Are you ready to go?” she asked, not entirely ready to leave his warm hands, but plenty prepared to spend time in an actual house again. He’d already been given his discharge instructions and packed both of their belongings, so Callie piled the bags on him once he was sat in his wheelchair again, meeting Matuk outside. 

Nick tensed, frowning. 

“Nick, this is Matuk. He’s been kind enough to keep me safe so keep your mouth shut,” she whispered the last part, and rolled her eyes when Nick resorted to a low growl instead of any real friendly gesture. She mouthed an apology as they passed; he understood. It was a tense elevator ride down, somewhat lessened when they walked through the lobby, but she could see Nick fidgeting, his hands gripping the armrests when Matuk walked too closely. 

Nick didn’t seem to notice the familiar SUV trailing behind them as she drove, but it was probably because he was dozing off by the time they were halfway home. Callie watched Matuk’s car drive down the street when she pulled into the driveway; he’d probably circle around and park close by. 

“Baby?” she called softly, moving his arm. He snored sharply, his head jolting up as his eyes slowly opened. “We’re home,”

It was inevitable that his eyes would land on the backyard, but part of her had hoped, somehow, that he’d blocked that part away. He didn’t outwardly look riled, but he did seem bothered. 

He chose to walk around the back of the truck instead, not even looking in the gates direction again as he hobbled by with his cane. 

Top of the list: clean up the blood. 

His house was stuffy, and chilled, yet he didn’t bother moving anything or looking around before he walked straight towards his room. The cane dropped against the floor, and he struggled greatly to pull his shirt up and over his head, but once it was discarded, he carefully sashayed his way to the middle of his mattress, plopping down on his good side into the blankets and cold sheets. He whined happily, pulling the covers around his arms and burrowing his face against a pillow, his nostrils flared as he chuffed. 

Callie placed his bag on the floor beside his bed, plugging in his dying phone on the nightstand, all the while he watched her. 

“I’m sorry I’m useless,” he mumbled. 

“Hush. Get some sleep, I’ll check in on you soon.” she cooed, patting his leg. He wanted to protest; to get up and fix his house he sure was disorganized, but sleep was overtaking him faster than he’d ever experienced. 

The windows were opened and curtains pulled aside, letting in crisp breezes that would air out the confined house. Shivers cascaded down her arms when she pulled her jacket off, but there were chores to be done. Dishes, straightening up around; the junkmail on his table was tossed, the blankets on his couch flung of the fine layer of dust over them. There was also washing his bloody clothes, and taking the time to scrub the stains that might remain forever. 

She recalled having seen little to nothing in his cupboards the last time she was there, but would finish unpacking his belongings before she headed out again. 

Silently she moved around him, organizing clothing, pulling the blankets back over his body when he kicked them off with a grunt. Before she left, she texted his phone so he’d know where she’d gone, and carefully kneeled beside him on the bed to kiss his head. As she walked from his room though, she paused, looking back at his nightstand. She assured herself she wasn’t being paranoid when she pulled his glock from the back of the drawer to the front, leaving it cracked, just in case. 

Back into the cold she went, but wouldn’t leave until she’d made certain someone would stay with Nick. 

By the time she finished picking up more clothes and belongings from her house, picking up groceries than his prescriptions back at the hospital she’d gotten and filled his tank, plus the sub she’d forgotten to buy Matuk, dinnertime was coming up. The day had flown by in what seemed like just a couple hours; had she been so drowned in her thoughts? Not once had her eyes stopped moving, always aware of her surroundings and the people nearby, and Matuk always within earshot. 

The warmest part of the day had passed, and her teeth were chattering as she hauled the various bags from the truck into the house, dancing in circles a little to warm her bones. “Fuckin’ hell.” she exasperated, reluctant to remove her scarf and boots.

Dinner was started; fideo con pollo, something she knew would make him lazy and not wanna move, which meant he couldn’t be tempted to get up and wander around or do something useless around the house. 

With the sopa simmering, and the TV playing softly behind her, she pulled a worn notebook and glasses from her backpack, sitting at the bar before his kitchen. Years of thoughts, plans, scribbles and numbers filled most of the old book. Sometimes she’d reopen it and look back on old grievances she chose to lash out across paper, and even in the sad words written everywhere, she’d smile, recalling the older times. Now, she drew new charts. This would keep track of her savings; everything she spent until she could find another job. Thankfully her accounts were still plush from careful budgeting and occasional shifts at the strip club she once frequented, so staying at Nick’s for the remainder weeks would be doable. 

“Hey Cal,”

She spun, closing the book behind her to find Nick wobbling out, steadying himself against the walls. 

The alluring aroma of that red soup she made had woken him, and driven him onto his feet, following it out into his living room where the cold was now gone, and a low warmth hovered. 

“Hey,” she pushed the book aside, under mail she’d piled. “How’re you feeling?”

He groaned, his head hung in his hands as soon as he sat at his table. 

“Headache?”

He nodded, and looked up sleepily when the shaking of a pill bottle moved towards him. A couple horse pills and water bottle later, he was still groaning, his head thumping uncomfortably as he rested forward onto the table. 

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” she told him, rubbing his arm and tilting her head so she could see him eye to eye. 

“Hungry,” he mumbled, bringing his face up from the crook of his elbow. 

“Dinner than back to bed,”

“I smell,”

She giggled. “Dinner, bath, then go back to bed. Be kind to your body.” she grinned, her thumb poking his nose when he rested his lips against her fingers. 

Soon after, she wrapped a small blanket around his shoulders as he watched TV from his table, still bent over, but at least the headache was subsiding quickly, although his stomach started rumbling loudly the longer he waited for food. Still, he enjoyed watching her move around, in his house again, no less. It was like she’d never left; he always felt she fit in so well to his surroundings. Clearly she remembered where everything was, even how to work the remote when she skipped back a couple seconds to replay a scene she liked, apologizing sheepishly to him. 

And when they ate, they still talked. She still sat beside him, pushing her glasses up to hold her fringe back and served his favorite garnishes; she remembered those, too. He was so sleepy, but he didn’t want to stop talking when their bowls had emptied. Nick wanted to keep gazing at her enchanting smile, losing himself in her balmy eyes. 

He wanted to lean over and touch her skin. He wanted to pull her plump bottom lip down under his thumb before he kissed her, and tasted her. He _needed_ to feel her throb around him again. 

“‘Bout to pass out?” she simpered. He sighed, nodding, _lying_.

He still required help during sponge baths. His side was constantly sore as his bandaged hand was tender, but it would only be a few more days before the stitches would finish dissolving. Her cool hands running over his skin was a plus, so he might as well try and enjoy it. 

“How’mi gonna sleep without dilaudid?” he slurred, his cheeks pressed between her hands as she scrubbed his face. 

“You’re already drifting off as we speak,” she teased, earning a low rumble from him. 

“What about the nightmares?” he asked.

“I’ll come runnin’.” 

He slithered around his bed again once he was clothed, but had refused to wear a shirt now that he was home. He rolled again, facing her with the blankets around his head and his legs sticking out. She was still moving around, stuffing belongings here and there. Slowly, stiffly he sat up, leaned onto one elbow with a hand flat against the twitching muscles at his side. 

“Wanna lay down?” he asked. She looked back at him, puzzled. 

“Hm?”

“Do you wanna lay down with me?” he asked again, trying to fight the nervous flight of his eyes. 

Her hands stilled from rolling a dirty shirt, seriously contemplating the offer even though she pretended to look stoic. It would be like accepting the invitation; at last giving into the soft touches they’d dared all the past days. 

But instead she asked, “Why?”

Nick shrugged. “Figured you’re tired too,”

“I’m- I’m okay,” she nodded, frowning, tossing the shirt aside. He discreetly pulled in a long breath when she moved past him, suppressing a long growl. 

“You look sleepy,” 

She scoffed. “Cause I was crying earlier,” she cleared her throat. _You’re still broken up_. “Besides I got a couple things to do, ‘n I can sleep on the couch,” 

Her back bumped against the door frame as she edged out, swallowing when his eyes dragged up her body. 

_Don’t fucking do that_. He undressed her where she stood; she could basically feel his hand running up her inner thigh if she decided to saunter over, and stand over his knees.

“Okay,” he mumbled, admittedly disappointed, but sorely moved back onto his side to lie down again. 

She almost thought about reconsidering, and taking him up on his offer. _So what if it lead to more?_

She pinched her own arm. _Don’t be fucking stupid- you know exactly what kind of mess that would make. Don’t let your lonely pussy do your thinking_. 

Callie moved back to the living room, observing the empty space around her, and then the black windows that were still open. Unease swarmed her, and she fought running back to Nick’s bed in fear as she hurried through closing and locking the windows and drawing the curtains closed. 

_Someone could be watching and you wanna fuck- real smart_. 

The longer she took to clean up the dinner mess, the more the desire drained, leaving her a slow moving husk with only a small residue of what once consumed her like a high from morphine. Often she glanced out the window over the sink, out onto the street that was quiet, looking for anything that might’ve been out of the ordinary, but Matuk’s SUV always silenced her nervous heart. 

Nothing could happen as long as he was there. 

With Nick (assumed to be) sleeping, she found a few spare minutes to scribble in her notebook again, planning future payments and laying out a budget to follow. Somewhere in the weeks to come she’d have to sneak in a few job interviews, or late night gigs at Two Hands if she couldn’t secure one. The thought of throwing her ass in a circle at grizzly older men made her groan, but bills would keep coming in. 

With the last warm load of laundry folded on the table, Callie rubbed her tired eyes, dropping her glasses onto a stack of shirts before standing to stretch. 

_Even his couch is better than stiff hospital beds_ she thought, flipping lights and pulling her socks off as she made her way in the dark over to the couch. With a look over her shoulder, she pushed her jeans down her legs, leaving them pooled on the floor before stretching across the cushions in her panties and long sleeve shirt. So plush, and soft, as was the blanket she pulled down from the backrest. 

Her bare thighs rubbed against the fabric, her ankles crossing as she settled on her stomach, her face buried in a pillow. _Smells like him_. 

Her eyes wandered over to his open door, into the darker room where he laid. It was so quiet, and it felt wrong being so far away again. Sure, she could’ve simply denied her body the urge to slide down on him, but that doesn’t mean she’d be _able_ to. Once it started, it always ran out of her control- of both of their control. 

_You’re still._  
Broken.   
Up.

She buried her face again, hiding from her own cruel thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, more mysteries to unravel, emotions are resurfacing, _callie is in danger_ SO STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT UPDATE!! 
> 
> translations!  
> -"chato": like pug nose. kind of an insult, but she uses it in a loving way for him  
> -"viejo": old man (in case anyone forgot)  
> -"Jiak wanav avo fuck lat par avhe avable righav now buav jiak can’av,": "i wanna fuck you on the table right now but i can't"


	13. Pikokos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pikokos: "drunk"

With a low grunt of discomfort, he leaned against the opening to his hallway, determined to resist running his cheek against her round ass he’d been gazing longingly at for a hot minute. In typical Callie fashion, she’d slept with no pants and the blanket over her head with toned legs sticking out, wearing the pair of baby pink underwear he’d only seen a couple times before. Still sleeping, it gave Nick the chance to take in what he couldn’t touch. It was the same thing every morning. A different part of her hanging out or uncovered, torturing him in the cruelest way possible, egging him on from his spot in the hallway, _every- fucking- morning_. 

Sometimes it’d just be her stretched with her arms behind her head and her shirt hiking up her stomach; even her exposed neck and jaw one morning where she hung off the couch got him going now- just like it used to when he’d see her in those thin camisoles during the summer he met her. All of it made him feel savage, his body tensing and nostrils flared as he scented her vehemently. 

_That used to be mine._

He whined, turning to limp down the hallway and close the bathroom door harder than normal so she’d have a chance to stir and cover herself before any control he had ruined. 

Her head turned, and the blanket was pulled back when she heard the door slam, her cheek pressing into the warm cushion with tangled curls settling over her face. She wondered if he’d seen the shivers across her thighs when she heard him smelling her, but thought he must’ve acted against her… subtle signals, despite the little voice in her head reminding her that she was acting like a fucking tease. 

She sighed, pressing her thighs together. _Make up your mind, bitch._

Inner Callie was right. _You can’t run away from advances one minute than make your own the next._

But that’s how it was that first week home. The nebulous state they were in was building in power everyday, their small looks and occasional brushes of a hand against a thigh or a chaste kiss upon a cheek being the match against the striking pad. It proved harder to remain level headed when she’d help clean around the stitches and gouges across his body or face, her fingers sometimes trailing a moment longer than necessary to admire his gorgeous features. And when they did his breathing stretches? There was no way to mask the arousal she visibly saw his own body react to; she stopped trying to hide it after the first few times. 

But with everyday that passed, life at his home became harder to navigate. Callie struggled to keep her head in the right place when her heart ran out of control, always in his direction. Small things like watching TV together proved risky. It brought back old temptations; when they’d before be sat in the dark, his hand would always find its way around her inner thigh before she’d crawl over him. Now, their thighs touched or they fell asleep slumped against one another, eventually woken by each others heat in the AM hours. 

Nick tagging along to stores in mobility scooters rekindled a goofiness in both. They’d wander down isles, cracking jokes and picking up snacks, or the occasional curio neither of them needed. They’d talk and point, often idling down the DVD’s in search of something new to discover, far too tempted to leave with a small fish neither of them knew how to care for. Nick was appalled when she’d pay for their splurges, insisting he dish out the cash, but she’d smile at him and wink, ending all protests. It always made him flush. 

When they didn’t manage to make it outside as often as he liked, Nick ventured into his backyard one day when she was occupied with something, nearly stopping her heart when she found him sprawled across the grass under the sun. 

“Chill out, I’m chillin’.” he grinned, but she still took a moment to settle her rabbit heart. After the second time he pulled that stunt, she brought a sheet out with her so they could both sunbathe. Periodically throughout the days when he felt too cooped, he’d ask her to lay with him, and relax, enjoying the crisp air and warmth of the suns rays. If they fell asleep, ignoring the chores that inevitably piled up as they slumbered, they’d wake tangled, and cuddled, smiling or laughing nervously as they’d part ways. It always took a great effort to help hoist his muscled body back into a standing position, but never once did she complain. 

Nick’s hand couldn’t fit into his gloves as long as his fingers were taped, and although it took quite the stretch of time to walk her through how to tend to his veggies, she successfully planted new tomatoes and bell peppers a particularly chilly afternoon, and her beaming smile was worth the frustration. 

The cold nights couldn’t keep them from eating outside, either. Layers upon layers were piled on, sometimes even a blanket over their shoulders so they could enjoy the lights strung overhead as they finished their meals, always a long conversation to follow. Nick’s favorite part about his backyard was seeing the lights twinkle in her eyes, and it was almost easy to forget he’d been attacked only ten feet away when she’d laugh. The soft music played on either's phone would lull them, and they’d only retreat inside to separate beds once an entire playlist was finished. 

Resounding shouts that now occurred every night made her a light sleeper. 

In a flash she’d be on her feet, finding Nick strained in bed and sweating, held captive by his own mind until she’d succeed in waking him, and finding him lost in his own recollections as he’d grip her desperately. Callie would soothe his rampant fears, holding his face as he searched wildly for whatever had frightened him so as he slept. Soon he’d calm, begging her to stay, his arm held steadfast around her waist as she cradled his head against her chest, promising nothing would hurt him again. She pleaded with him to tell her about the dreams, insisting he’d feel better if he let out what poisoned him, but he’d only tell her he couldn’t even bare to say it. So she held him at night, fighting sleep by blinking rapidly until he had finally fallen under again so he wouldn’t be left alone. 

Her touch didn’t just silence demons. It eased pains that racked through his frame when he’d max out on his daily allowance of pain meds. Some days were worse than others; if he slept wrong, it made him stiff, more prone to bumping into things. If he missed an icing, something swelled and screamed. When he’d find himself curled forward in the middle of his bed, she’d drop everything and crawl to him, stretching him out beside her so she could rub his back or massage his sore limbs. Just her fingers trailing across his face with his head in her lap would calm the commotion in him, evoking the steady rumbling of purring she’d missed hearing, and sometimes he managed to nap through it. Her phone or a book was always nearby so she didn’t need to jostle him. 

Matuk still followed when she found herself alone during the day for errands, and always she made it a point to make sure he was as comfortable as possible sitting for hours outside Nick’s house. Sometimes a snack, or hot drink, even sparing her portable charger for him to use so he wasn’t limited to using his phone briefly. 

After a long afternoon of running errands in the rain, Callie came home soaked and freezing to not find Nick anywhere, calling for him throughout the rooms in his home. The cracked sliding glass door to his backyard lead her to find him sleeping in a lawn chair, a blanket over his legs and an ice pack over his ribs with an arm slung over the top of his head. 

The skin of his arms was cool when she touched him, hesitant to wake him. It was the first time she’d seen him sleeping so peacefully without the loom of nightmares. 

So instead, she changed, bringing extra blankets outside for cover and sat beside him, listening to the droplets on the overhang and watching is cascade like a waterfall onto the ground. 

In moments of silence like that, without the temptation to give her body over to him again like in better days past, she’d ask herself: _what are we really doing to each other?_

* * *

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Nick shook his head, pulling his jeans up and drawing the belt through the buckle. 

“I dropped off the doctors note!” She exclaimed, the kitchen towel in her hand whipping when she tossed her hands. 

“Guess it doesn’t matter,” he grunted, wincing when he lifted his arms to try and pull a shirt on. Callie opened it for him, tugging it down his body. 

“Maybe we can call Margaret so she can chew them out?” 

Nick shrugged, gathering his phone and wallet. “Let’s see how this goes first,” 

She exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Your captain is a fuckwad,” 

He smirked, pinching her chin gently and wiggling it to illicit a small smile from her. Callie playfully smacked his hand away, again helping him pull over his Adidas sweater. 

“Ward heading over?” 

“Yeah, should be here in a couple minutes,” 

She kneaded her inner cheek. “Please let me go with-“

“No,” he interrupted sternly, no room for debate in his hard gaze. “Not after what happened last time,” 

“Nick-“

“Callie,” he held her jaw. “No,” 

Those big eyes had him wavering, seriously reconsidering just to have his rock by his side while he went back in, but he couldn’t keep exposing her to that environment. But as she dropped her head, her hands on her hips in defeat, he brought her face back up to peck her cheek, closer to her mouth than he’d done before. 

“It’ll be okay,” he mumbled, closer to her. Her eyes were heavy, her chin lifting. 

She could probably feel his heart kicking up under her palm where it landed, her fingertips pressing into the firm muscle.

“Mhm,” she intoned. 

Everything in her was ready throw down, like the other 50 times they’d found themselves in this same predicament. Every time became harder to handle, more tempting to give into. But this time his big hand hung off the back of her neck, in a way that held her steadfast, unable to pull away when his other thumb traced her bottom lip. 

“Nick,” she breathed, stretching her neck. He hummed something unintelligible, and her eyes fluttered shut when his mouth brushed hers, evoking a soft whimper as her lips parted.

The melodic ringtone of his phone startled them both, and just like that, the heavy smoke around them was lifted when they both looked at his pocket bitterly. She turned away after his hands dropped, a palm against her chest as she moved towards the door. It was always after these moments that her mind reeled back, reminding her where they stood. 

_Well who fucking knows at this point._

“Hey Ward,” Nick answered, turning to watch her leave. He frowned. 

“You need help outside?” His partner asked. 

“Nah I’ll be out right now.” Nick grumbled, ending the call a little forcefully. Second time now he’d interrupted them. Nick followed her out, finding her answering a text on her phone by the kitchen. 

“You should take the cane,” she called, glancing where it was perched against the couch. “Adds emphasis,” 

“Yeah,” he grabbed it, having now mastered how to lean into it. “I suppose. I’ll be back soon.” He tugged an end of her hair gently as he limped to the front door, but didn’t see her rock back on her heals to slump against the entrance to the kitchen, watching him longingly. 

“I’m _hornyyyy_ ,” she rasped quietly, only after the door had closed. 

 

“Holy shit he’s got a cane,” Ward grinned, opening the door for him. 

Nick scoffed. “You're a personal chauffeur on the side now?” 

“Shut up and get your blue ass in the car,” Ward patted his shoulder as he carefully climbed into his sedan. 

“You good? In pain?” His partner asked after he’d climbed back into the drivers seat. 

“I’m okay,” Nick nodded, holding the cane between his knees.

“How’s your recovery been?” That question had teetered on the tip of his tongue, the ends of his fingers since Nick had first messaged him after waking up. It felt… rushed asking only a few days after, and from what he’d gathered from Callie, it had been tough, mentally as much as physically. Ward didn’t want to bring forth too much he couldn’t handle. 

“Ehh, as smooth as possible I suppose, up until this morning,” Nick grumbled. 

Ward shook his head. “I don’t know what kind of stick Heig has up his ass thinking he can go against doctors orders,” Ward exhaled. 

“If it doesn’t work out I dunno if I can keep Callie at bay,” he joked, both of them chuckling. 

“How’re y’all doing?” 

Nick inhaled, thinking that one over carefully. How could he word that? “Weird,” he chose, his hairless brows pulling together. 

Ward glanced at him. “Yeah?” 

Nick nodded, rubbing his jaw. “It’s like… nothing happened, but at the same time there’s always a reminder that something did happen,” 

“Gettin’ in the way of you two making up?” 

“Kind of? Maybe? I don’t know where we stand- it’s like this weird, washing machine of confusion and mixed signals,” 

“I mean y’all could just sit and talk like normal adults but if you like it like that than you do you,” Ward cracked, earning a flat glare. 

“Shut up,” 

“I’m just sayin’. Did y’all even get a chance to that night-“ Ward cut himself off, his fist against his mouth. That was wrong to say. 

Nick was staring forward, emotionless. “I completely forgot… I forgot I was going to do that,” he said quietly. “I know we need to talk but I’d forgotten I was,” Nick scoffed. “I was so fucking excited to call her,” 

“You having trouble remembering things?” 

Nick blinked back into reality. “No, no no, I’m good,” 

Ward nodded, his grip on the wheel adjusting, rocking forward a little to situate better in his seat. “Listen- I’m, I’m sorry,” Ward started. 

Nicks ears twitched, brows creasing as he looked at him. 

“I made it a bad habit of telling you to ignore the shit you dealt with at work, and people being dicks,” he glanced at Nicks perplexed expression. “I didn’t even consider how much you dealt with or that it could get worse, so I’m sorry. It’s- it’s not right what happened to you,” 

“You don’t have to apologize-“ 

“I do. I’m always hounding Sophia about sticking up for people and being a shoulder to lean on when others are vulnerable or alone, and I forget that that shit can still happen at our age. I wasn’t a good partner or friend,” 

_Friend_. Nick looked away, waving his hand. “You don’t need to apologize, Ward.” 

_I have another friend._

The rest of the ride to the station consisted of idle chitchat back and forth, mostly about the shit Ward had put up with since Nick had been absent. His replacement, a rookie who barely knew his codes and had locked them out of the cruiser had only caused headaches in the 2 weeks he’d been partnered with him. 

“At least you could make arrests on your own,” he’d said.

“Just say you miss me,” Nick played with a tuskless grin, but Ward snorted. 

Nick acted as if his knee was bothering him greatly, but in reality, he was taking the extra seconds to prepare himself before walking in through those doors to the prescient. Normally, it was easy to smother his rampant nerves and take the arrows in his back. Now? He didn’t even want to look in it’s direction. To say he felt crushed would be putting it lightly. 

“Let’s go, Fogteeth,” Ward encouraged, lending a hand to help Nick up. 

The Orc tried to keep his chin up and shoulders squared, but that same sinking sensation in his stomach he got when he thought of falling asleep only to be jolted by terrors was churning in his gut. His steps were slower, and suddenly all he worried about was anyone remarking on the cane he used. What if instead of seeing it as a clear sign that he wasn’t ready to come in, it came across as his inability _ever_ work again? 

Of course the station was bustling that day. Plenty of familiar faces to turn and stare at him, some snickering and others purely surprised to see him there. 

His shoulders drew in, visibly cringing away from it all. Where had his solid demeanor gone? _It was beaten out of me._

He limped beside Ward, straining not to look at the faces watching him, trying to ignore occasional snickering. Some offered their apologies and best wishes in his recovery, but the overall energy was exhausting. He should’ve just let his fucking doctor take care of this mess. 

Ward knocked on their captains door, swinging it open for Nick. 

Heig looked up, lowering the paperwork he’d been reading to look at the two officers. 

“Back on your feet already?” Heig asked, dropping his papers. 

_Seriously?_ “It’s not exactly easy,” Nick replied, leaning onto his good leg. 

Heig nodded, pursing his lips as his dull blue eyes bored into Nick. His captain reached into his drawer, flipping through papers until he pulled out a folded, crumpled one that Nick could see his doctor's signature through against the sunlight coming in behind him. 

Nick swallowed. _Had they balled it up?_

“Says here you have fractured ribs,” he paused to lean back in his chair. “Broken eye socket, fingers, bruises and stitches- but I don’t see any of that,” 

“Gonna ask him to get naked next so you can see it?” Ward snapped. Nick silenced him, but Heig leaned forward. 

“That kind of shit coming out of your mouth one more time is gonna land you in unpaid suspension, Ward,” Heig boomed. Wards mouth was tightened, wavering side to side with his fists clenched at his sides. 

“Sir, I cant even lift my arms up past my head. My knee is screaming at me and I still have follow-up appointments a couple times a week. I’d be more of a crutch then anything useful,” Nick tried, shifting uncomfortably. 

Heig was thinking again, but Nick got the sense that he was just trying to figure out how else he could yank him around. 

“What about 4 weeks instead of 6?” 

Nick sighed. “I’m in no position to go against a doctor's orders,” 

“But if you’re up and able-“

“I’m not. I didn’t want to be here today. I want to go home and rest and heal so I can come back to my job and do it the right way,” 

“And you couldn’t do that? Even from a desk?” 

Anger was starting to bubble in his limbs. “If you can’t take my word for it than I can call Dr. Voelker so you can hear it from her, Sir,” 

Heig’s eyes narrowed at that. He knew if he battled this with an official, he’d have significant heat come down on him. What else could he do to make this any harder? He could always just brush it off and tell him to report bright and early the next morning. Surely Nick would succumb to his injuries before he even made an arrest. 

“I have her information, that isn’t necessary,” he said, and Nick quietly exhaled in relief. 

Heig filed the damaged paper again, carelessly this time. 

_Watch it mysteriously disappear…_

“We’ll see you in four weeks then, Jakoby,” Heig grumbled, his look of dissatisfaction evident on his mayonnaise face that was damaged from the sun. 

“Thank you, sir,” Nick said, nodding his head. _You fucking ass- you’re probably just desperate for a reason to fire me._

The two officers had turned to walk out, Ward still strained with frustration when Heig barked, “And Jakoby,”

Nick turned. 

“If your broad ever swings at one of my officers again, I’ll hold her without bail.” He stated, emphasizing on the insult and watching closely to Nick's reaction. 

If he didn’t value his job- if he was _human_ , he’d swing his cane so hard into his jaw, he’d shatter his skull. But he didn’t. Instead he nodded once, burying the animosity until he could take it out some other way. 

“Bullshit,” Ward said under his breath after they’d moved from his office. “Just fucking bullshit,” 

“I just wanna go home,” Nick groaned, forcing past the protest of his knee to move across the station faster. Not as many people gawking at him this time, but still enough to keep piling onto the tremendous sense of irritation he was carrying. 

The two were past the lobby and approaching the front doors when a familiar, sickening face walked through, sneering at Nick and even stepping aside in an exaggerated manner. 

Nick did his best to ignore Gerald, walking brashly past him. 

“Too bad he made it- this place needs a cleanse.” 

_Orcs don’t belong with humans._

He spun, meeting Gerald’s smile again, his eyes narrowed in delight at Nick’s reaction. 

His blood was pumping, a dreadful sense of familiarity befalling him as he played those two sentences over and over again in his mind. The longer he stared, horrified, the sinking sense of realization sat heavier on his shoulders. 

_He did it. It was him._

Gerald walked away, chatting lowly with a fellow officer as they went on. 

“Nick?” Ward called, tugging his shoulder. 

_“That dude with the bad haircut, and the preppy clothes? Dude has a thing for me.”_

_Gerald… did he want me gone to get to Callie?_

“Nick,” Ward said again, raising his hands in question when Nick barged from the building, searching for the unknown once he’d caught up to him. “Dude what the fuck-“

But Nick was moving again, towards a car parked beside Wards with two bulky Orcs sitting inside. 

“ _You’re Fogteeth?_ ” Nick asked, and the one behind the wheel nodded. 

“ _There’s an officer inside- Gerald, look into him. I think that’s the fucker that did it,_ ” Nick explained, his voice shaking as this stunning turn of events brought him back to that night, clearer than ever- than any nightmare he had to relive every night. 

How had he never put the two together? The obvious similarity of their voices, or the way he’d brandished his relationship- the clear fucking motive? 

_What orcs did he get to help him?_

“ _Where’s- who is with Callie?_ ” He asked, looking back to the orcs. 

“ _Who?_ ” 

“ _The woman who’s staying with me!_ ” He snapped, and they rolled their eyes. 

“ _There’s Fogteeth there- calm down munguz_.” The bigger one waved his hand nonchalantly, and Nick backed up, the adrenaline starting to simmer down, the ringing his knee starting to make itself aware again. 

“Jakoby,” Ward pleaded, hesitant to approach the car full of orcs. Nick finally faced him, realizing how suddenly he’d rushed off. 

He gave the others orcs a departing nod before wobbling back to Daryl, his head hung a little. 

“In cahoots with Fogteeth now?” Ward asked low, the two of them moving to his car. 

Nick shrugged. 

“Was wondering who that big fucker with Callie was,” 

_Matuk_. “Yeah,” Nick exhaled. Now there was really nothing he could argue about. He’d just ran and basically begged for help, to the only ones who would help. He was in no position to bitch about the youngster taking care of his girl.

“Can you take me back home?” Nick asked, any energy left in him now exhausted. 

↠

“Netflix is _paid_ ,” Callie declared contently to herself, plopping her phone down against her chest as she logged the purchase in her notebook, coming to a final total of her savings that could still keep her afloat a while longer. 

_I should find a cheaper place to rent…_

The front door rattled, and she looked back from her spot on the couch in time to see Nick coming in, visibly exhausted and tossing his keys down carelessly on the table as he limped past it. 

“How’d it go?” She inquired, but with every wary step towards her until he sat beside her on the couch, she knew something was wrong. His head was hung, his expression conflicted. 

_Oh fuck- was he fired?_

“Nick?” Callie closed her notebook, setting it before her on the coffee table before facing him. 

He wouldn’t look, let alone acknowledge her when she said his name again, finally holding his shoulder. 

“Did something happen?” 

_Someone might be after you_. He nodded instead, almost unbearably. To lie to her- would it be a mistake? 

“What? What happened? Did you get hurt?” She questioned, gently, the concern rising in her voice. He kept shaking his head, lowering into his hands as the tremendous threat that loomed over Callie started to heavy, spreading across his body like a sickness. 

_This is happening because you’re with me_. But he still couldn’t bring himself to make her leave. It hung off the tip of his tongue when he looked to her and mouth opened to utter the words, but he just couldn’t. 

“What, baby?” She pleaded, holding his face. “Tell me,” 

_What if I can’t keep you safe? What have I done keeping you here with me, just so I can be around you?_

His hand covered his face, leaning into his palm when he couldn’t bare to look her in the eye and lie anymore. There was no sorting the mess in his mind, the morals that battled his heart in that moment. But he did allow himself to lean into her embrace, her toned arms circling his broad shoulders as he hid against her. Nick’s heart felt so heavy, it was almost painful. 

_What the fuck do I do?_

He pressed his face tighter against her neck. He couldn’t hold back the onslaught of possibilities- the thought of holding her broken body in his arms like he was, or _raped_. 

He whimpered. Callie held him tighter, beginning to feel fear find it’s way in. 

“Nick what ever happened, they can’t do anything to you,” she said against his cheek, holding the back of his head. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again. I won’t let anyone come near you,”

Their eyes met when she held his face, her hands smoothing across the deep creases in his rough skin. “Whatever they did can’t follow you home,” He leaned into her hold, her sweet words cloaking the anguish in him like a blanket would protect a child from the dark. “Don’t walk away with those bad thoughts. Stay here with me,”

His hands covered hers, and he was stuck there, like so many times before. Here she was promising protection in the face of unknown danger when he should’ve been the one to declare his undying safety for her. But all he had was fear. And love. Raw, crippling, _paralyzing_ love. 

“Cal-”

Her phone vibrated loudly on the glass surface of the coffee table, pulling both of their eyes over. 

“It’s my mom,” she sighed, looking back. “You’re okay? Did you get the time off?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, go,” he mumbled, patting her thigh begrudgingly. 

With an unsatisfied nod, she moved from him to pick up the phone. Her hand slipped from his until he couldn’t hang on anymore, falling heavily into his lap. 

 

“Hey ma,” Callie answered, sliding the glass door behind her closed before moving to sit in a lawn chair outside. 

“This is really the only way you’re gonna talk to me?”

Callie’s eyes rolled back, dropping the phone into her lap. “Seriously?” she groaned, bringing it back to her ear. 

“Don’t throw that attitude at me when you’ve been avoiding me all fucking week,” Patricia snapped vehemently. 

“I’m _ignoring_ you there’s a difference,”

“Why? Don’t wanna face anyone?”

“Cause it’s none of your fucking business and it pisses me off that you think you have any goddamn say in this matter, Trish,” she hissed. 

“He’s using you, Cal-”

“Oh my god shut _up_ ,” Callie held her own face. 

“He’s fucking using you until he’s better and then he’s gonna throw you aside again,”

“How the fuck would he even do that when I was the one who offered to stay with him? He didn’t throw me aside! We both broke up! Not everyone is like Michael so please just leave me the fuck alone until you act like a real fucking sister!”

She almost dropped her phone in her haste to hang up, and was tempted to chuck it into the damp grass across the lawn just for relief from the constant texts and calls from her sister. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to expect her one day to show up at Nick’s house, pounding on the door and ready to scream viciously at him, and claim it was _'for her own good’_. 

Callie scoffed, staring back at her reflection in the phones screen. 

She chewed her lip, shaking her head some. _I still hate this haircut_. 

 

He leaned uncomfortably sideways, finding her sat in a lawn chair in his backyard, but then looked back at the open notebook on the small table in front of him. 

He’d seen her writing in it, a look of critical concentration upon her face always while she scribbled on its pages before she’d close it and stuff it away if he came too close. It was wrong to snoop, or even peak, he told himself as he inclined towards it. Where he expected thoughts, he found numbers and columns, simple math littering the page into neat answers at the bottom. It was the little dollar signs and names of bills that cleared it all up, and solidified his speculations. 

_She's living off of her savings._

He’d known since the beginning how money wise she was, and that she had quite the cushion to always fall back on in case of emergency, but this?

It took Nick all of about two seconds to figure out she’d either quit or lost her job the day she told him she’d stay with him the six weeks; he’d met her uncle before. Dude was so cheap he probably reused cheap paper towels, so no way in hell he was allowing paid leave for her all this time. Sure, she could’ve been stripping again, maybe taking extraordinary precautions to make sure he couldn’t smell it on her when she came home from running ‘errands’, but he doubted it. Soap didn’t completely wash away a day. And if she was, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from barging into Two Hands and throwing her over his shoulder to take her home, wounded or not. He’d give her his own savings before he ever allowed her to resort to subjecting herself to the creeps at a strip club like that one. 

He touched the page carefully, flipping it back to reveal more equations, more subtractions from her account. 

“ _Callie_ ,” he groaned, his arm snapping back when he heard the door slide open. He didn’t know how to sit casually, so resorted to stretching, then tensing. His ribs protested, buckling him forward as he groaned. 

“Oo, sore?” she asked, and he nodded, holding his breath. Bad idea. “Think you can hold out till lunch?”

He nodded, slowly easing back into a sitting position. In one easy bend, she collected her notebook and whisked it away into her bag. “My mom asked about you, by the way. Hopes you’re doing better.”

That was a lie. There were a lot of things Callie was good at, but lying? She downright sucked. She’d do this thing with her hands- one of them would move to scratch her nose, then quickly move to her mouth to bite her nails. It was such a repetitive movement. If she tried to string along a story, she’d literally do it over and over again. Someone must’ve bitched at her again. Periodically she’d disappear, and sometimes he’d catch her yelling from outside or in the bathroom, but he wouldn’t ask. He was already too much a burden. 

_Now you’re under threat_. Nick sighed, leaning his jaw in his palm. _How did I suck you into this mess?_

He didn’t really reveal what had been said and done at the station, and only told her he didn’t have to worry about being called into work again when she pushed him for details, but the worry remained evident on everything he did, even if he cracked a joke or smiled at one of hers. 

It stirred a deep seated rage in her gut; she could only imagine the cruel things that were said to him, but that was enough to make her fists clench rhythmically, her thumbs cracking her knuckles. 

She wanted to know who sent him home like this, seemingly plagued by thoughts he wouldn’t share. 

Their afternoon was lazy; full of TV, laundry and more TV, his stretches that she adamantly bugged him to do two times a day, then more snacks and more Netflix. He napped on and off, and Callie even managed to get him to purr again when he slowly gravitated towards her touch once her hand had snaked behind his head to scratch the back of his neck. It only took a few minutes for his head to land in her lap. It was temporary though; a cramped leg and aching knee jostled him upwards, forcing him to walk out the charlie-horse in his calf.

“You walked too much. They shouldn’t’ve forced you to the station.” she’d grumbled, handing him an ice pack once he’d situated into the couch again. 

And so the lazy day full of ups and downs came to a close with a quick dinner and Nick retiring early for the night. More than anything, he just wanted to lay down and rest, and be still where his mind kept moving. 

But Callie stayed up, tired of cleaning that day and restless on the couch, flipping impatiently between movies and shows but with no desire to start anything new. 

With a final scroll through the categories, she huffed, and turned the TV off before flipping the remote carelessly onto the ground, flopping back against the couch. She pulled down her shirt that twisted around her waist, even kicking off the blankets when they encircled her legs like a snake. Everything was bothering her, even the socks she ripped off and chucked across the room in the dark. 

It was quiet. Nick’s room was dark, and quiet. _He must’ve fallen asleep by now._

It was like she could hear her body moving, like the constant stirring of static. There’d be no rest or sleep if she went on like this, allowing her restive feet to keep swaying side to side. 

She looked at Nick’s room again, her fingers tapping against her stomach. 

The flush was already creeping up her cheeks when the alluring, shimmering thought came to the forefront of her mind. 

_He’s sleeping._

Her brows twitched when her hand slid under the band to her sweats, but her eyes slammed shut, her neck craning when her fingers slid between her lips, brushing her clit. It had been too long since she’d relieved the built up stress and allowed herself to ride the waves of euphoria, but with no assistance from her bullet she’d left home, this could take a while. 

It only took moments to dig through her memories and find one she rarely visited, but being on his couch like this brought it warmth, and color. She stifled a soft whimper, her free hand flying up to grip the armrest above her head. 

It was surreal how she could almost feel his sturdy body beneath hers, his great chest heaving with breaths as he’d inhale against her hair and neck, chuffing lowly into her skin. When she rocked her hips as her fingers drew tight circles, it took little effort to imagine his hand there, his other flat against her stomach to keep her from writhing out of his hold. 

_“You’re so wet,” he growled against her ear, pulling the length of his fingers up and down between her slick, swollen lips, creating an otherworldly, constant sensation._

_Callie could only gasp, whimper, sometimes beg and arch off his body, gripping his arms around her as he touched every part of her aching cunt that screamed for release._

_“Nick- please,” she’d breathe, rotating her hips this way and that, searching desperately for his fingers._

“Please,” she whispered, her body rolling. 

_“Here?” he’d mewl, flicking her pearl gently, her body stiffening and lurching with every soft strike. He kept her there, suspended, on the brink of falling apart. His other hand slid up and down the length of her body, sometimes rolling her erect nipples between his fingers or holding under her jaw to angle her flushed, strained face towards him._

“Nick,” she hissed between clenched teeth, hiding her face against her arm. Her body was vibrating, the blinding climax almost ready to boil over. 

_“Pleasepleaseplease,” she sobbed, little strength conjured to try and move his hand where she wanted, rocking forcefully into his touch._

_He groaned, feeling his dick strain beneath her ass, inside his pants. “You’re so beautiful,” he growled, at last rubbing her throbbing clit in tight movements. “I love you,”_

She covered her mouth, her thighs tightening around her hand that still rubbed, and it all came crashing down. 

_She arched high off his body, the breath stuck in her throat as it finally washed over her, firing to every nerve ending in her body. He held her thigh apart, pulling it up so there was no chance of stopping him. It was white hot, and slow; even slower coming down from the highest peak of that climax. “I love you-” she exhaled harshly, flattening against him again when he pulled her down. “I love you, I love you,” she chanted, twitching deliciously in his hold as he circled her knot, dragging it out until she was lifeless in his arms. He kissed her cheek, licked the deep hickey he’d left on her neck, admiring the warmth of her skin as he embraced her._

“I love you,” she whispered, her body slowing, now only heavy breaths tumbling from her lips as the vivid colors receded to grey, burying itself somewhere deep in her thoughts. The smallest smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, her hand sliding from her pants. “I love you.” she whispered again, her heart still thumping strong between her ribs. 

 

Nick stepped back from the door, sitting back on the bed slowly. 

What started out as rising to ask if she was okay after he’d heard what he thought was Callie crying turned into a sight he could not pull from. No thoughts screamed at him to move, or look away as he watched her whimper and touch herself, gripping his couch, moaning his name until she’d came. Then she uttered those words: I love you, I love you. 

It left him… needful. Surprised, confused, but also just… happy. Purely, _happy_. 

She didn’t see him sitting in the dark when she walked to the bathroom, closing the door quietly. 

_You still love me?_

* * *

Nick grumbled, fidgeting in his seat. 

“Settle down,” Callie mumbled. 

He chuffed this time, turning the head of a woman sat across from them in the waiting room. Nick rolled his eyes when the middle-aged woman scooted that half an inch farther away in her seat, partly tempted to start chanting in Orcish just to stir her up a bit. 

“What’s with the attitude?” Callie asked, flipping through an old magazine and crossing her knees. 

“I could’ve done without coming back here,”

“It’s just a follow-up,”

“They’re gonna poke me,”

“Pull some stitches too. Finally be able to take normal showers,” she grinned. He couldn’t deny that appealing aspect. 

“Didn’t mind having you do it for me, honestly,” he grunted, slowly tensing before she inevitably smacked his arm. 

“Pervert,”

“Jakoby?”

The pair turned to look at the nurse briefly before Callie stood first to help hoist him up, handing over his cane. “You’re okay if I stay out here?”

Nick’s ears flicked, frowning a little. 

“Smell makes me nauseous,” her face scrunched, and he nodded, walking slower to follow the smiling nurse. She kept the comforting grin upon her face until he was gone, but it faded quickly. With a loud sigh, she sat back in her chair, pulling her phone from her bag. 

It didn’t surprise her to see endless messages, mostly from Trish, some from Rosie and her parents. Typical Trish to run to their parents when someone hurt her feelings, completely disregarding anything she lashed out to provoke it. Now with the others on her side, she was really showing her claws. 

**_8 missed calls  
2 voicemails_**

**Answer the fucking calls callie**

**You know your being stupid**

**Callie pick UP**

**What are you gonna do when he kicks you out? Go back to hiding in your house waiting for mom or rosie to make you feel better?**

**Other people have actually lives to get on with**

**Dont come to me when your money is gone and youre stripping again. I dont want tomas around you**

**Tia laydee was right. Its good you cant have kids- they’d come out fucked up like you**

Her mind stuttered, and she read no more. 

The phone was left on silent and placed back in the bag upon her lap, and she rested her chin in her palm, staring out the floor to ceiling windows of the lobby. There were no tears to burn her eyes or the immense sadness that consumed like an undertow. She’d feel this later. Now, there was nothing, but soon, there’d been an overflow. Even still, she was left questioning, _why? Just, why?_

“Something is bothering you,” 

Callie’s head snapped to the side, discovering Matuk beside her with a small coffee cup in hand. "How long've you been there?"

"Ten-ish minutes," he answered. She blinked a few times. _Was I that spaced out?_

"So what is it?" He asked again. 

She shrugged, looking back to the window. “Family shit,” she mumbled, clearing her throat when her voice cracked. 

“Worse kind of shit,” he said, and she scoffed. “Cause of munguz?”

“Partly,” she sat back in her seat. “They stay in their lane until something they’d never do happens, then they’re like a pack of wolves,”

Matuk looked down at his coffee, swirling it some. “People sometimes resort to ridicule when they don’t understand someone or their intentions. Family can be just as cruel as strangers,”

Her brows furrowed, reclining from him at the unexpected words he uttered quietly. 

“Sounds like we’re in the same boat,”

“Hm,” he mumbled, sipping his drink. The woman across was staring, obviously concerned as to why an even bigger Orc than Nick decided to sit in this room of all the waiting rooms. 

Callie could see the assumptions pooling in her mind, barely able to keep them contained behind her thin lips. Matuk followed her line of sight, a hairless brow rising slowly when the pale woman tried her hardest to stare him down, but to no avail. 

“How’s it feel being glared at?” he asked Callie, and she shrugged. 

“Used to it by now.”

The door beside the counter opened to let Nick out, the same distasteful expression on his face accompanied by a wrap around his elbow. _Ahh, they poked him._

“Follow-up, Officer.” The nurse stuck her head out to call after him, smirking when he spun on his heel back towards the counter, protesting under his breath. “He comes back in one week, ma’am.”

Callie nodded, forcing a kind smile that felt… icky. The numb was starting to set in. 

“How’d it go?” she asked Nick, leaning beside him on the counter. 

“My hand swelled up,” he showed, and her eyes widened. 

“What did you do to it?”

He shrugged, kind of, his rebandaged, twice the normal size knuckles the object to ogle over. “Must’ve slept on it wrong or something,”

_Although his hand throbbed in agony, he couldn’t release his grip from the bedding clenched in his fist as he finished emptying the last of his orgasm onto his own stomach. Vivid pictures of Callie bowing off the couch, her hand masked beneath her sweats as she hissed his name, her face hidden- it was all the catalyst to send him over._

“Dummy,” she played, and he nodded, swallowing. 

_I can still smell it on you_. But something else was there. It smelled like sickness- like something had grabbed hold of her. There was also the way she kept staring off, as if lost in her own thoughts. 

“You okay?” He bumped her elbow with his. 

She nodded. “Kinda tired.” 

He wouldn’t press in public, but he knew something was wrong. He’d left her waiting, seemingly fine, and now she had locked something up. He doubted Matuk did anything. Something like that would’ve been obvious, and caused significant alert amongst this many humans. 

His lips quirked to the side in curiosity. It would have to wait. 

↠

It was coming off of her in waves now. 

Like she’d been doused in heartache; someone, or something, had latched, and was sucking her dry. 

She stopped smiling by the time they got home, and was lashing out at everything. She’d dropped a hand towel from a pile she was carrying and cursed at it. Lord forbid she would’ve dropped a plate, she might’ve torn the kitchen apart. By the time dinner was starting, she wouldn’t acknowledge him when he asked if she needed help. When they ate, she didn’t talk. 

He was deeply worried to say anything. He could handle a lashing, but would this be a particularly vicious one? 

Something had to be done, though. The stress around her was palpable. 

“Callie?” he called softly when she was collecting their plates. “Callie,”

She kept moving, the vibrancy of her eyes absent. 

“Cal,” he grabbed her hand, and only then did she look down at him. He pulled her hand, until she was sat beside him, and only then did he grab the stacked plates from from her hands and set them aside. 

“What’s wrong?”

Her face twitched, shaking her head. “I’m okay,”

“No you’re not,”

“No- I’m okay, Nick,” she was trying to pull away, but now he had both her forearms in his grasp. She huffed. “If you won’t tell me what you have nightmares about then I won’t tell you anything either,”

“Fine. I dream about being attacked, for days on end and I can feel my bones snapping and crunching until I sink into the ground and suffocate. I dream that you’re being mauled to death or I find you in pieces throughout my house and I have to collect them and try to put you back together. Sometimes I wander around a hospital and I can hear myself screaming for help, but instead I just hide,”

Her eyes were swelling with tears. “Now please tell me what’s wrong,”

Torment. Pure torment. She was crying, but still trying to smother it, her face dropping into her hands when she couldn’t utter the words while looking at him. 

She told him everything. 

Losing her job, how her family ridiculed her instead of offering any help, the way Patricia had chosen such cruel words. It drained from her in deep, wet hiccups, her hands eventually becoming no match to wipe away all the tears that ran down her cheeks. Her mind was an abysmal ocean of emotions she couldn’t name. It had built and built the past weeks the more she distanced from her family, when in reality, she needed them most to know she was doing the right thing. Greatly she assured him there was nowhere else she could’ve been during his recovery, but she questioned: why couldn’t they understand that? 

With this, immense guilt befell Nick. It was essentially his fault that she was being driven into the ground without anyone to lean on in support. _I should’ve known_ , he scolded himself. All the signs were there; how didn’t he notice? 

When all that could be said was done, she wiped away tears before they spilled. Her eyes were as red and swollen as her lips, her cheeks misty after such a torrent of cries. Although her heart felt tons lighter, it left the rest of her exhausted; she could probably sleep an entire day if she had the chance. 

He wanted to say something, anything to help, but felt at this point, all he’d do is make things worse. _She shouldn’t be here_. Too many times already he’d said _I’m sorry_ , but that was always useless. That never helped anyone. 

He’d held her hand on and off, limp and sad, but she’d just withdraw it to wipe her face. He felt useless, and kind of stupid, but this wasn’t about him right now. 

“I could use a drink,” she croaked, sniffling. His brows perked up. _I can do that, at least._

“We have that wine in the back of the fridge and some Captain,” 

She giggled hoarsely. “You can’t drink on your meds,” 

Callie watched him stand before wobbling into his kitchen, her line of sight blocked by the bar. A bunch of rummaging, a couple grunts from him as he struggled to carry whatever he was retrieving.

She cracked a confused grin when he came limping back with the wine and rum, shot glasses and an ice pack, laying each one out but plopping the ice onto his knee he stretched out across the chair beside him once he was sat again. 

He pushed the wine towards her slowly, seeing the sparkle come back to her eyes the more she smiled. 

“I don’t need my pain meds tonight.” 

 

By the time the wine had been finished and they were taking shots of rum, they were both giggling, their warm cheeks hidden behind hands as they tormented one another with embarrassing recollections and stories that made them boom with laughter. After a day of silence on her part, it was comforting to hear her go on and on again, bringing forth a playful side of him seldom seen without her. 

His house was warm, and their sweaters had long been taken off, and the ice pack was melted, creating a pool on the tables surface. 

“Jakooby?” She beamed, her rosy cheek in her palm. 

“Fuckin’ Jakooby,” he nodded, his heavy eyes half lidded. 

“How do y’even mispronounce that?” 

“Same way people s’mtimes call me Nicholas,” he slurred, clear disgust in his sultry tone. 

“Sometimes people think my names short for Calliope,” Callie mumbled, giggling when Nicks face scrunched. 

“Canopy?”

“Calliope,” she laughed. 

He shook his head and _pfft_ -ed, sloppily pouring them another shot and raising his with a wobbly hold. “To our identity crisis ss’s?” He questioned. 

They both threw them back; he always got a kick out of watching her face sour and her shoulders shudder when she did. “That’s bad,” she coughed. 

Again, her phone vibrated against the tables surface, but she only pushed it away. Some of the booze had lost its shine in her eyes when he gazed at her. 

“Are they more mad cause y’quit or yer here?” He asked, resting his jaw against his knuckles. 

“Both,” she breathed, pushing her curls away from her cheeks. Nicks breathing heavied; she looked so warm. He wanted to rest his cheek against her bare stomach. 

“You should g’home,” he mumbled, the disfavor of that statement obvious in his frown. “N’ fix this,” he added, twirling his finger in her direction. 

“I can’t grow my hair overnight,” 

He snorted. “I meant the shit with your family,” 

She stared at him with balmy eyes, blinking to focus on him. “I’m not leavin’. They don’ get it now, they just won’t. Everytime I try n’ explain it, they don’t hear me,” she paused to take a swig right from the bottle, her eyes pinching shit. 

“They think I’m chasing ghosts of the past,” she tried to smile, but it was a bad mask. 

“They think I’m a bastard,” he declared, but she shook her head, her hair bouncing around her cheeks. He almost whimpered in admiration. 

“We’re both bastards,” she whispered, playing with the bottle. 

“What did you tell ‘em happened?” 

“That we lost each other along the way,” she smiled, barely, her eyes becoming glossy once more. 

_We lost each other along the way_. He held her hand, his thumb stroking her soft skin. 

“But,” she sniffled, wiping her eyes. “They won't listen do so I’m done trying to convince them,”

“That’s your family,”

“And they’ve never really been on my side about much,” 

His ears flickered. “I’m on your side,”

She smiled, a beaming one that could challenge the beauty of the stars, and leaned onto her elbow against the table. 

“I know you better than them anyways,” 

She snorted, slurring, “Ah yeah?”

He nodded, his brows pulled together in a confident scowl. “Like- like you talk to people differently depending on how much you like ‘em,” he strained, reaching for the bottle to drink from. 

“I do not!”

“Mhm. You used to be like- **ASH** ely when you saw her like y’were ‘mediately annoyed just lookin’ at her,” he explained, his hands waving around dramatically as she listened with a slack jaw and goofy grin. “‘Nd when you saw me, cause I’m obv’sly so fuckin’ cool, you’d do this little call like like, _Niiiick_ , ‘xcept it was soft and small,” 

“ _Niiiick_ ,” she mimicked, just as gently as she once did before. 

A hand was held over his heart, his eyes closing. “Love it,” he confessed. “Which means you must really hate m’now cause I haven’t heard it in weeks,” 

Callie’s smile faded, and confusion lined her glazed look when he dropped his head some. “You think I hate you?” 

“I know you do,” he mumbled, looking at her again. 

She moved to the edge of her seat, their knees bumping. “You obviously don’t know me as well as you thought you did, mensito,” she smiled, but even though he gave her a sleepy grin, he dropped his head once more. 

Her embrace was tight around his neck, the skin of her cheek against his warmer than the rum in their guts. He chuffed quietly when he wrapped his sinewy arms around her waist, his fingers curling into the fabric of the thin shirt over her. He willed to melt into her skin, and stay in this warm place. The alcohol he could smell on her created a surprisingly sweet smell, coming through her pours like cinnamon. 

“I could never hate you,” she declared beside his ear, stroking the back of his neck. 

“I ruined ev’rything,” he murmured, hiding his face against her neck. 

She shook her head, moving enough to bring his face towards hers so she could see his vibrant eyes. “I will never hate you, Nick. Never.” 

He believed her, even if her eyes were clouded. Sincerity showed through her flushed cheeks and muddled words, and why else would she be here? Because they were friends? No, she was here, unknowingly risking her own safety- _probably not the best time to be getting drunk_ \- for herself, too. He’d smelled it before he heard it the night before. 

Callie was there because she loved him. 

He dropped his head against her shoulder, pulling her tighter against his chest as she curled her arms around him again, his taped, heavy hand rubbing up and down her back. 

“Would it be too soon to say I knew you’d say that?” He asked, and she giggled against him. 

“Shut up,” 

The kiss on her shoulder was from impulse alone, meant more for affection than desire, but her breathing hitched, and he tensed in her hold. 

His forehead slid across her jaw and cheek when she unwound from him sluggishly, holding either side of his neck. Suddenly, she wasn’t just hot; she was on fire, and her arousal was flourishing, lining his senses as he pulled in rapid breaths. It beckoned a ravenous side of him that was thick with booze, hot from want, but he wouldn’t act on it so quickly. 

He could feel her pulse beneath his lips when he kissed her neck, his fingers digging into her sides when she whimpered as he dragged his mouth across her jaw, the ends of her hair tickling his eyelids while he tasted her skin. 

There was no hesitation this time. 

He caught her mouth in a searing liplock, his breath flaring his nostrils when she moaned against him. She tasted like rum, but her tongue sliding into his mouth was the sweetest reminder of better times. He kissed her like she was the last drop of water in a deserts landscape- like he’d been left in the dark for too long, and she was his hand reaching from the light. 

Any alcohol in them must’ve been burning off faster than either could expect, for as he continued to kiss her, and admire her moving body beneath his hands, he felt no thick smoke of unclear actions or thoughts clouding his judgement when he pulled at her hips. In one easy step, she was in his lap, pressing tight against his chest with thighs spread over him. 

Her essence was stronger- it tingled in the back of his throat, made the sleepiness he once felt banish. 

Callie was the one to move her arms beneath them, and her shirt came up and off her head with her hands, but he was the one to easily unclasp her bra and pull it down her arms. 

“Touch me,” she breathed against his mouth, sighing loudly when he pushed her back into his hands, his sharp teeth closing carefully around a hardened nipple. 

He sucked, and licked and swirled, paying equal attention to each breast as she laid boneless in his hold, smiling up at the dim light of the ceiling. Her skin was alive with shivers, her hips starting to gyrate languidly against the bulge she felt growing between her thighs. 

He moaned into her skin, detaching with an audible pop from a nipple to claim her mouth again. 

As always, she was weightless as he lifted her, his hands sweeping behind her to push the dishes and booze off the tables surface and into loud, clattering piles on the floor. 

The bite of the cold table against her back made her arch, but it was forgotten as she sat up, her fingers working the button and zipper to his jeans. 

He stifled a groan when he pulled his own shirt off, his side nagging, but it too was smothered when she pushed his jeans and briefs down his narrow hips, just enough so his rigid dick fell into her grasp. 

He twitched, his fingers tangling the hair on the back of her head roughly when she pumped him slowly, the thick beads of precum already slipping out of his tip. He pulled back on her hair, kissing away the sharp hiss she made while he followed the length of her body to yank down on her tight jeans. 

He stood straight to pull them off her feet, and held her knees apart to step back between them, taking a chaste moment to overlook her bared form beneath him. 

Her hands reached for him, pulling him down for another kiss, whimpering against him. 

He leaned onto one elbow, and she held his face, her thumbs stroking his cheeks when she felt his fingers brush her lips, his wide tip poking lower. 

There was more resistance; it had been a long time since they’d come together like this, but not enough pressure to urge him to stop. 

He pushed in slowly, moans shaking his form as he slid into her clenched center, inch by inch until his balls touched her cheeks. She breathed heavy beneath him, her knees closer to her stomach and brows furrowed in mixed pleasure and stretching. 

But to be caressed, so deeply again- it had her seeing stars.

Nick pecked her lips softly, pushing her fringe back from her face so he could see her caramel eyes clearly when he started to move slowly. Long thrusts, all the way to his tip then back in, relishing in the slick heat of her womanhood. 

He licked across her chest, pulling from under her back to take mouthfuls of her skin, listening with clear ears to every gasp and moan. 

“Nick,” she sighed, and his body shivered.

His thrusts became harder, every one pushing a short moan from her beautiful lips, her head tossing side to side as he gradually built his tempo. 

“ _Oh my god-_ ,” she cried, holding his face to hers, trying to kiss him. “ _Oh my God, Nick_ ,”

His breath started to come in hard puffs, a familiar sensation starting in the pit of his stomach. It was pouring out through his limbs, slow, and searing like lava. 

He pulled up on one side of her hips, keeping to hard, short snaps of his hips that kept himself buried deep inside her pussy. 

Callie cried out, her breasts bouncing with every sharp impact, her nails digging into his arms. 

“Oh go-“ she gasped, her heavy eyes opening, her back starting to bow. “There- right there right there! Don’t stop,” she yelled, his other arm bending under her knee. 

“I know baby,” he ground out, lowering as his end started to creep up faster on him. 

She was panting, writhing, slurring words he couldn’t understand and kissing him sloppily when suddenly, she stiffened like a board.

Callie shouted out, long successions of his name and delicious moans, her walls clenching and pulsating all around him. 

And with a defeating roar, he found his release, buried deep inside her fluttering pussy, his teeth digging into the spot under jaw. It left him slowly, with thick streams of semen pouring against her womb and the very high that blinded him moments before finally clearing. 

They were both sweating, and breathing harshly, her hands trembling as she held his shoulders. 

Nick kissed her collarbone, his forehead lowering under her chin. 

He stared at the wall beside them, and she at the ceiling. 

For some time, all they could do was breathe as the haze finished dissipating, leaving them both stiff, and afraid to move. 

_What the fuck just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love complicating things >:) thanks for reading! 🖤
> 
> Mensito: dummy


	14. Downpour

_A sharp exhale against his lips, his rigid member sliding into her._

She held her cheeks, her eyes closing from the intensity of her own flush. 

_“I know baby.” His gravelly tone, and his hips rutting between her spread thighs, pushing her closer to a brilliant climax. She cried beneath him, her nails digging into his arms._

Callie exhaled slowly, her thighs sliding together when the swell moved from her lower stomach into her arms and legs, shivers erupting in its wake. 

_His thundering roar above her, and her hands sliding up his heaving chest to hold his neck, hypnotized by the ferocity of his golden eyes as he calmed, and slowed, lowering over her._

Her eyes opened. The balmy rush of images stilled in her heart, and the real world came back around her. The familiar tiled walls of Nick’s bathroom, and the cold edge of the tub beneath where she perched, recalling the vivid, steaming, drunken incident. Days later, and it still held the intensity it poured in that moment. 

Too many times throughout, she was held captive by these episodes where she couldn’t go on with any normal task until she relived it. Until she reviled in the warm water like sensation of their encounter, her mind was muddled, her actions imprecise. 

Callie pushed her hair from her face, her palms covering her eyes. 

_It shouldn’t have happened._

They now stood on grounds more brittle than before. 

But above all, she fucking adored it. Her body had taken a bite of the sweets she’d denied herself, and it wanted it again. Her core ached, desperate to ravish him. The love that had never left her bones was prominent as ever… but how did they fix this _now_? Everything was backwards. How did they talk about everything they’d left behind? 

She willed her fluttering, confused heart to calm under her touch, but all she wanted was to forget there had ever been anything bad between them. She wanted the hot summer days when the love was first blooming, hotter than the simmering sun above. 

 

Nick leaned back on his hands, able to bear stranger positions like this now that the bruising was starting to recede. But aches made themselves know in different parts, now. 

His eyes pinched shut. 

_The fuck were you thinking?_

Passing days had been tense, and awkward. It had gone from an occasional fun brush of the hand or harmless kiss on the cheek to constant, impressive desire. He’d been given the cruelest reminder of better days. The overpowering urge he’d bridled to scream how much he loved and just wanted her back was mighty, but moving forward, he couldn’t do this backwards. 

Before he fell apart with her again, they’d have to talk. 

With a groan, he pushed the heel of his palm against his growing dick, willing his body to listen to his scrambled mind. 

He froze when he heard her come from the bathroom, but she didn’t look at him as she passed. 

Nick took a steadying breath. 

It was time to face the mess they’d left behind in their battles. 

He stood, and limped lesser than before out of his room, finding her sorting junk mail at the bar before his kitchen. 

Tightening his fists only brought him discomfort, as did taking deep breaths; still too tender. 

“Cal?” 

She turned; already she knew what was expected. This was a long time coming, but as she looked at his equally uncertain eyes, she wished she would’ve faced this sooner. Maybe they could’ve been together again, already, or at the very least getting _over_ one another. 

“We need to talk,” he swallowed the shake in his tone. 

She nodded, looking down at her hands fiddling before her. “I suppose we do,” 

“Uh,” he paused. “I don’t know where to start,” 

Callie looked around nervously, foot starting to rock on its side. 

“I didn’t mean to do that,” she said slowly, twisting her thumb in her grip. His brows furrowed. “It was- I didn’t plan that when I said I wanted a drink,” 

“Oh, oh yeah I know, yeah,” he reassured, and she nodded hurriedly. “You’re not like that,” 

“Neither are you,” 

“It was just a stupid mistake,” he blurted, and the confusion flickered across her face before it settled into… annoyance? Or was that straight up anger? 

“Yeah I guess,” she mumbled. Thinking it was one thing, but hearing it out loud? Like getting kicked in the teeth. 

“There’s too much we need to talk about and fix,” 

She scoffed. “Too much you never admitted to being wrong about,” she said lowly, leaning against the bar. 

Nicks ears twitched, and he crossed his arms. “I’d say the same about you,” he challenged, and she pursued her lips. 

There was a drawn silence, staring bitterly at one another. The withheld resentment, the sleeping monster, was waking in both of them. It was stirring the dormant anger that always brought them back to this same exact fight. 

“Why do you think we broke up?” She asked. 

“You wanted to,”

“I wanted a _break_ ,” she corrected. 

“Why? Why couldn’t we just talk?” 

“Cause look what’s happening now! We can’t ever just talk- we can’t just ‘fix’ this, Nick, cause you don’t listen,” 

“You don’t listen to me!” 

“I was- I do!” 

“You don’t! You think everything is simple and straightforward but shit is complicated but you refuse to accept that!” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She asked, scoffing when he rolled his eyes back and turned away. “See? If there’s something I don’t understand it’s cause you don’t fucking tell me!” 

_Damnit._ He dug himself into that hole. “I've explained things, but you know what you always tell me? ‘Let it go, Nick, let this go and let that go’- you of all people should know that shit isn’t easy,” 

Her face soured. “That’s kind of hypocritical when you tell me I just need to talk about my anxiety and you think it’ll disappear,” she snapped back. 

Nick covered his face. “We’re not even talking about what we’re supposed to be talking about,” 

It was true. One thing always lead to another, in every sense. 

A little tension had billowed to rabid emotions, tearing open old wounds that never bled. 

Their eyes met when his hand pulled down his face, and the fury churning her gut was so suddenly a blazing passion that was quickening her breaths, bringing forth heat to her skin. She saw his body straighten when he inevitably caught wind of her excitement, and the feral shift in his golden eyes. 

But was this her body screaming in desperation, or the love fighting to make itself known again? 

He took wide steps to her, coming into her space when the arch of her back hit the edge of the bar. He didn’t touch her, he didn’t scent her, but determination was firing in his eyes. 

“I want to fix this,” he growled, obviously restraining himself. “I want us to be together again,”

Her face softened, and the relief was great; to hear him say it: _together again._ To go back to the days of endless laughter and a love so overflowing, it was deeper than the darkest depths of an ocean. 

_Together again._

It physically hurt not to leap into his arms, but she had promised herself long ago she’d never overlook things that made her unhappy. A false happiness is worse than being alone. She sighed. “Then admit you were wrong,” 

“You were wrong, too.” 

_Don't be weak_ , her inner self chimed, hollering, kicking, screaming inside as she craned her neck, his hard breath blowing across her parted lips. 

He chuffed, turning away. 

It was like having cold water splashed in your face. The lust was yanked away, and she watched him leave, wandering back into his room. But it gave her the chance to finally slacken her body, her face dropped into her palms. What was the point of rehearsing in her head for days when it always just flew out the window as soon as one of them opened their mouths? 

 

_“Then admit you were wrong.”_

_I wasn’t wrong._ He paced, grunting whenever weight was bared on his increasingly creaking knee. 

_You were wrong, Callie. You didn’t listen._

He finally sat on his bed, slowly, wishing he had his meds to lessen the sharp pain in his body. 

He leaned onto his elbows, his temples in his palms. 

_Why can’t you listen to me?_

 

_I want to be with you too._

She made the reach to his door plenty of times, but would retract, then go again. Over and over, sometimes holding the back of her neck, utterly tempted to say _Fuck it, let’s start over!_

They couldn’t. They’d be walking back into the same mess, reliving the heartache all over again. 

The day closed with little interaction, the two staying in their respective corners of his house. At dinner, she ate in the kitchen and he on his couch. They acted like strangers, forced to chat idly as she helped with his breathing stretches before he slept. Still, she struggled to aim her eyes anywhere else besides his flexing chest, always landing on his face as he watched her reaction, and smelled her intensity. 

They flared silently, both wanting, but both equally stubborn. 

↠

Callie rolled onto her back, removing one side of her headphones to listen in the dark. 

She could’ve sworn she’d heard it again- the startings of Nick having a nightmare, but only stillness filled the dark house. She rolled forward against the plush cushions of the couch, opting to keep an ear uncovered with her face mashed against the backing of the couch. 

Her eyes had started to drift shut against the lull of a soft song when she heard it- the long groan, a strained one. 

Callie was on her feet and padding over to his room, cautiously peaking her head in. _He could’ve been doing something else…_

“Nick?” She called, and he turned slowly, wincing. “You okay?” 

He rolled onto his back. “Sore,” 

She stepped into the doorway; _that’s right,_ he was out of pain meds until they went to the doctors the following morning. Until then, it was bound to be a restless night. 

“Ice pack?” 

He shook his head, barely able to roll and pull the pillow against his face. 

“Want me to rub your back?” She offered, moving to sit beside him. He nodded after some thought, curling against her side with his arms over her lap as she leaned over to pull her nails up and down the length of his back, switching the sensations, feeling the goosebumps rise across his skin. 

It didn’t take long for the low rumbling of a steady purr to come forth from him, his strained breathing evening when she rubbed carefully along the stiff muscles of his spine, her lithe fingers massaging the edges of his bruised ribs. 

Often he stirred, arching sideways when something else ached, but her soothing hushes and healing hands were there to calm him, her body progressively curling closer to his when he’d whine. It didn’t take long for his head to land on her stomach, with strong arms around her hips as her feather-light touch over his shoulder blades settled the last of his restlessness. 

It was quiet again, his breathy purr fading as he started to fall asleep, hopefully without the interruption of nightmares. 

She stared at the ceiling, wide awake, smothered between warm body and soft bedding, and wondering how it would be if they were able to sleep like this every night, without the aid of nightmares. It’s what brought them together now: sounds and terrors, and their love is what tore them apart. 

_Why can’t we just talk?_

Her hands slid flat against his neck, up to the back of his head. His eyes cracked open. 

_Why do we fight so much now?_

Nick could smell the salt of her tears starting to pool in her eyes, and sense the drowning weight of confusion. 

“Callie?” 

_Why does it have to be like this?_

She clapped a hand over her face just as a choked whimper left her, and Nick was fighting past his discomfort to sit up, trying to pull her hand away. 

“Don’t cry,” he implored, holding her cheek. “I’m sorry,” he curled an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest as he rolled, taking his turn to cradle her closely. He squeezed her, unknowing of how to stop the gentle cries against him, shaking her shoulders. 

_This is my fault. This is all my fault._

“I’m sorry. We won’t talk about it anymore.” He mumbled, kissing her temple. 

_I won’t keep you anymore, Callie._

He’d appreciate this final night; the night before he stopped trying to win her back, and hold her close in hopes one day she’d be his again. If such misery crippled her, he couldn’t keep her held down for his own selfish desires. 

_I’ll always love you._

* * *

His smell was the first thing that invaded her senses, and then the soft scraping of his sheets around her. She was in his bed, lost under the blankets, pressing her face down against the sheet to take it all in. 

She remembered falling asleep in his arms, and the swollen state of her eyes brought back the small fit she’d had, also. Callie groaned, sitting up. 

He wasn’t there, but she could hear him moving around in the living room. 

Callie looked to the emptiness beside her, her hand ghosting over the cold sheet. There was a time, when they could have a conversation without conflict or wake up tangled and not feel ashamed; she thought, _this is it. I’ve found my forever, the person I want to be with the rest of my life._

She _still_ wanted it. She wanted eternity with Nick, but not like this. Not on such uncertain grounds, with so little discussed. 

She moved to the edge of the bed, her hands flat against her thighs. 

No longer did bites or bruises mar her body, but she was sure his scent still came from her pores. 

_It’ll take a couple weeks to pass_ , he’d told her. 

_I’m in no rush._ Callie stood, wandering from his room and peaking around the corner. Something occupied him at his table, but surely he heard her; the flicker of his ears said so. 

She emerged, her feet moving over the carpet quietly until she was sat beside him at the table. 

“Morning,” she intoned, and he looked at her. 

“Sleep okay?” 

She shrugged. “Sorry,”

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled, looking back to the paper he’d been examining. 

She scratched her head, her fingers snagging a knot, her knee starting to bounce. “Do you wanna talk?” Her voice cracked, her hands folding and landing in her lap. 

“We don’t have to anymore,” 

When silence drifted between them, he turned again, and was met with eyes that were deep with sadness. It was clear she was trying to cap it, and keep the questions at bay, but Nick’s heart still broke at the sight. She was falling apart before him, silently; he knew her mind was torturing her.

His face softened, his resolve weakening. _It’s for the best, Cal. Just get over me._

But everything in him fought to pull her against his chest and scream _fuck it, just fuck everything that’s happened and let me love you again._

“Okay,” she finally said, standing. “I’m gonna shower and than we’ll go to the hospital?”

He nodded, catching the tightening of her brows before she finished turning from him. 

_And you still expect her to stay here and help you? What the fuck is wrong with you?_

His head hung in his hands. _Nothing can be fixed._

↠

Silence filled their space where laughter and smiles once did. 

Their arms didn’t bump; he kept a respectable distance from her. 

Her shoulders were drawn in, her hands stuffed in her pockets as they ambled through the hospital to the pharmacy. 

Normally, they’d find fascination in the rain streaming down the tall windows they sat beside. Today, it was just a cruel reminder. The inside of the hospital was as cold as outside, and her skin was chilled beneath her damp pullover. 

He glanced at her, regularly. It was unsettling to see her so still, not even the nervous bounce of her knee or biting of her inner lips. She stared ahead, her body slouched. 

Was she as cold as him? He was layered, but warmth was absent in him. 

He hadn’t only lost the love of his life, but his best friend. 

They both felt so alone sitting beside one another. 

He swallowed. “Are you okay?” 

Callie moved, but only to lean onto an elbow. “I’m tired,” 

He could, but he wouldn’t offer the shoulder to lean on. _Keep your distance_. Even if he could smell himself in her; even if the other Orcs that followed them noticed it, and immediately halted their displays, she wasn’t his anymore. The bite under her jaw would fade soon, as would his essence. 

This was the breakup. What they’d felt before? That was only the stunning absence of one another. That was the mindless hope that one day they’d be a pair again. 

Nick’s eyes burned, and he inhaled deeply to calm the tremble in his body. 

Once his time was up, that’d be the last of her. No more beaming smiles or alluring eyes, and no more soft caresses at night to chase away the terrors, or the hours of talking, laughing, admiring. 

Her phone vibrated, and she almost ignored it without a bothersome glance, but then she remembered.

**Hey Cal- for sure we always need girls. Can you make the evening shift?**

She bit her inner lip, wiggling so the phone was better hidden from Nick. 

The idea of picking up a shift or few at Two Hands had seemed… smart, at first. She could always use the income until she found steady work again, but with stripping came stress, and secrets. No way she could tell Nick. 

Her foot bounced, her thumb tapping the screen. 

**Yeah, I’ll see you later. Thanks Jake!**

_Please don’t let this come back and bite me in the ass._

↠

“Hungry?” 

Nick nodded, wiping his face once they’d made it to the security of his truck. “What’ya feel like?” He asked. 

“How about Colima’s? Haven’t been there in a while,” she suggested, turning the engine over. 

He chucked inwardly. “Not since your birthday,”

Maybe that was a mistake- that day had been-

“With the crazy asshole screaming at you?” She grinned, backing out of the spot. 

He exhaled. “At least it was eventful,” 

“Best birthday, honestly,” 

He nodded, recalling the day. The perfect weather, the constant smiles, her shoulders under his arm as they walked the swapmeet for hours before visiting their favorite taco shop, and where he surprised her with tickets to a show in downtown she’d been dying to catch, but never managed to buy tickets for in time. 

“It was a good day,” he added. 

 

They hid from the chill outside, huddled beside the window of the too-small-for-Nick shop, the warmth of the stoves keeping them cozy as they ate peacefully. The same thing every time: Nick’s chile rellenos and her pozole, smothered in onion and cilantro, a huge scoop of rice tossed in, always sharing a large horchata. 

It was pouring by the time they started eating, beating mercilessly down on the unlucky few that were forced to walk the town without umbrellas. 

“Good thing your stitches are out,” she mumbled, and he looked up. “Good thing the usual creeps aren’t out, either,” she paused to look at the beanie pulled down over his ears. “Your head okay?” 

He shrugged indifferently. “Still chilly,” 

“Yeah my ears are cold,” she mumbled, pulling her hair around her face. His heart wept; _you’re so fucking perfect._

“Nick?” 

Her eyes were searching his, desperation lining her face. “What’s wrong?” 

He had to hold back all the thoughts weighing on his mind. Nick wanted to lay it all out, and just… give up. This looming sense of failure was sickening. Knowing that soon she’d be gone, and there’d be nothing left of them… it hurt. It was the kind of hurt that just... _stayed_. 

“I’m sad,” he sighed, resting his utensils down. “I’m just sad, Cal,” 

“About?” She croaked, clearing her throat. 

“This. All this. How it ended up, ‘nd how it’s going. It feels like we’re in an echoing room and we just keep coming back to the same thing over and over and there’s not going to be any relief,” 

She shifted, her body tensing in preparation. “Then let’s talk it out,”

“We never do. We fight every time,” 

“Then let’s stop fucking fighting,” 

“We can’t,” Nick snapped, and she withdrew. “We can’t even make it through dinner without starting again.”

He was right. It didn’t matter how it started, because they always ended in the same spot every time. With stiff movements and averted eyes, neither finished their meals amongst the stale silence between them. Everything else around them seemed so loud and obnoxious, as was the small table they sat at, or dealing with the too small plastic silverware. 

It was pouring when they stepped outside under the overhang, the pair groaning as they zipped their jackets and pulled their hoodies or beanies down tighter. She kept pace with his slower steps to the truck, making sure he was in before jogging around the truck and nearly slipping. 

The entire walk to the car took about 10 seconds, but they ended up looking like they’d thrown themselves into the ocean. 

She cranked the heater, wiping her face and scoffing when her glasses streaked the more she tried to clean them. She noticed him sitting still, and it made her more jittery. The truck was warming up- it’d be some minutes before they’d leave. 

She gave up on her glasses, hanging them off the necklace around his rear view mirror. 

He still didn’t move. Callie exhaled, looking at her hands in her lap. 

“Things won’t ever go back to how they were, will they?” She asked. 

Nick resting his face in his palm was her answer. 

If the effort had been exhausted in him, what was the point? She wouldn’t fight for something one sided, it seemed. 

Callie nodded, trying to swallow the stark realization as she shifted the truck into drive, even if the engine wasn’t warm yet. She had to get out of that car. 

 

More running through the rain, and Nick fumbling to unlock his front door when they made it back. As soon as she stepped inside, she started wondering, should I get my shit and go home? But would Nick even be okay without help? 

She moved her dripping locks from her face, starting to pull her soaked jackets off, but looked at her phone before placing it down on the couch. 

_Fuck. I should get ready._

Her eyes followed Nick, moving to his room. 

_What’re you gonna tell him?_

With a roll of her shoulders, she adjusted her shirt that stuck to her cold body uncomfortably, and followed him. 

“Think you’ll be okay the rest of the night?” She asked, watching him struggle to take his sweatshirt off, but stop and turn to look at her puzzledly. 

“I picked up a shift to work tonight,” 

His brows arched, his arms lowering. “Not at your uncles,” 

_Well he figured that out fast._ “No,” 

“Callie,”

“It’s fine,”

“Callie you don’t have to do that anymore,” 

She rolled her eyes, turning some. “You know, you sounded pretty relaxed when I told you I used to strip when we were dating, but now that we’re not?”

“It’s not that-“ he tried. 

“Shouldn’t you have been more embarrassed when we were together?” She spat, and his face gnarled. 

“Shut up where the fuck is this coming from?”

“Cause you have a fucking problem with anything I do!” Old wounds were reopening, cascading into a deep pool of animosity Callie had since covered. 

He sidestepped. “What the fuck does that mean?” 

“It’s the reason shit fell apart, Nick. You treated me like a toy you didn’t want to share but I’m not. I was your fucking girlfriend. You should’ve treated me like a human-“

“That’s the problem- you fucking humans don’t understand the kind of shit we deal with,” he hissed, getting in her face. “You didn’t believe me or fucking listen when I told you, _it can always get worse_!” He boomed, making her flinch. “I kept you near cause I saw the looks! I know how angry it would make people that we were together and even though,” he closed the distance between them again, but she stood her ground, her eyes glossy. “Even though I’m glad it happened to me instead of you, I fucking told you it could always get worse. You didn’t believe me,” 

He backed up, leveling his breathing as she stood, watching with strained eyes that held all she wanted to argue… but couldn’t. 

Just as she was coming to this, so was Nick. 

It was finally dawning on him: _I was your girlfriend, not a toy._

He huffed, turning away with his hands upon his hips. The wet clothing was irritating him, and he was sure he’d left his meds in the center console of his car, but discomfort wasn’t worth getting more wet. 

She searched for the words, but nothing more was coming out. 

She didn’t listen, and he didn’t see. 

Was it that simple all this time? Even if, they needed time to cool off. 

“I have to go,” she croaked, waiting for him to say anything more. 

His eyes pinched shut, but he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge her. 

_Tell her. Tell her, you fucking pansy. Tell her why she shouldn’t go._

When he didn’t respond, she walked out, moving quicker. Everything else she needed beside her purse was at the club, so it took only mere seconds to grab her stuff and go. 

Finally, at last it had felt like they’d made progress- like they’d managed to extract the biggest thorn in their sides that had been sickening them for so long… but then back to silence again? How many fucking circles were they going to run in? 

She navigated through the rain to Matuk’s SUV, startling him some when she climbed in suddenly. 

“Can I have a ride?” She asked, wiping her face. 

He was halfway into his sub, his cheeks full when she bombarded him. “I guess?” He mumbled, in no hurry to pack away the remainder of his food. 

Callie pulled her phone out. **Gonna be a little early**

“You and munguz at odds again?” He asked, driving onto the barren, wet street. 

“Aren’t we always?” She mumbled, but he shrugged. 

“Figured you two made up,” 

Her eyes lifted, but she remained. “Why?” 

Matuk only sniffled, biting back a goofy grin when he saw her face drop into her hands. 

 

Nick saw her get into Matuk’s car, but it didn’t help settle any of the unrest in him. 

_He could be nearby- he could be fucking waiting for her._

He swung his fist viciously against the door, hollering when his healing knuckles thundered with immediate pain. He paced, growling, whining and cursing, trying to calm a rampant rage in his veins. 

_They’re gonna stay with her. She’s gonna be fine._

↠

She stood on the dagger pumps, testing her balance. 

Good thing she wouldn’t need to do much walking- she felt like a newborn horse on heels this tall. 

“Gotta get used to it again, huh?” Silvy asked as she tossed her lilac hair behind her shoulder to lotion her other arm. 

Callie shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll fall on my ass at some point,” 

She laughed. “It’s not that busy tonight. Mostly white guys, they’ll shower you,” Silvy encouraged, turning this way and that to fix her skimpy attire. 

Callie did the same, her hands smoothing down her side as she stared at herself in the mirror. The heavy eye makeup and matching crimson chained bikini was startling to see on herself again. She’d become so accustomed to comfy shirts and jeans, that slipping back into this reminded her of the total shift in personalities she’d put on in and out of stripping. 

In the dark room full of whooping men, she was Valeria; who’s red lipstick left behind was branded into cheeks of men who carried wads of cash with them. 

Outside, she was Callie, who loved to sleep and was afraid of almost everything. 

“I’m already tired.” Callie mumbled, wobbling over to the exit as Silvy finished touching up her hair and makeup. 

Callie took passing glances in the mirrors lining the walls of the hallway as she made her way to the stage, making sure her fringe was pinned back neatly and her waves were even with no flyaways. 

The music started bumping through the walls, and she was bringing forth all the spins and moves she knew. Where to throw this leg or place this hand- there was so much. Her stamina was surely pitiful after sitting back a few years. 

“Callie, you’re up,” the DJ patted her shoulder as she passed. 

_This was a bad idea._

The music transitioned, and the nerves were rattling under her skin. 

But she still strode out with the widest smile she could conjure, her hips swinging this way and that as she made it down the catwalk. Already she was receiving the whistles and shouts, seeing the flash of cash clips shining out of pockets. 

_I fucking hate this song._

Her body still swung and moved flawlessly, but she was sure her face wasn’t totally placid. It had only been 30 seconds and she was already over this whole thing, but as soon as her knee hooked around that pole and she flung herself around to land with her ass bouncing before them, the single started flying. 

It took some time to warm up, but once she was familiar with the pole, swinging and flipping was like walking. 

It made her a little nervous having Matuk sat in the booths, but anytime she’d spy him, his eyes were everywhere else. She withheld a chuckle when she thought of strolling over to dance around him, just to ruffle his feathers. 

She continued dancing, swinging, tempting men who’s eyes had turned to hearts in hopes she’d come a little closer. Thankfully none of the older ones dropped dead when she strolled by them, their fingers slipping cautiously under her hip bands to slide money under.

By the time her song ended, she was panting, but bouncing towards the back of the stage with her singles clutched to her chest and some pinched beneath her bikini bottoms. 

She exhaled hard when she was covered by the curtains, wobbling down the hall to her vanity to dump her deposit across its surface. 

Callie stared down at her earnings, moving the bills around, delighted to see a few fives and twenties in there. “God damn,” she intoned. 

“Oo, got a secret admirer out there?” Silvy asked, passing her with a playful smile. 

“Apparently.” Callie giggled. 

“Callie!” 

She turned in time to see Jacob, the owner of the joint poking his head in with a clipboard over his eyes. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Callie grinned. 

“My boyfriend would hate it if he knew I was looking at my dancers asses,” he simpered, making her chuckle. “Can you do a few more dances? You’re in high demand again, Valeria.” He played. 

“Two more and I’m done. These heels are killing me,” 

“Callie,” 

She looked back, his face revealed and his big brown eyes pleading. “Come back,” 

“Jake,” she sighed. 

“I still have people asking for you!” 

“For my ass, not me,” 

“I wanna put you back up on the boards,” he pouted, and she felt some sympathy. Jacob was a boss like no other; so caring for his girls, and was never cheap in regards to security, but this line of work was just too exhausting, even if the pay was fantastic. 

“I like being a lazy cow,” Callie drawled out, and he rolled his eyes dramatically. “I’ll carry shifts when you need someone though!” 

“Okay pues,” He frowned, slinking out of the room. “You’re on again.” 

She stuffed her messy bills under the lift of her table, and checked her hair again, fixing her smeared lipstick that rubbed off on her shoulder. A fleeting glance at her phone brought her hand to it, and hesitantly she opened the message from Nick, ignoring the numerous others from her family she’d began to ignore. 

**Be safe- I’m not ashamed of anything you do. I’m proud of you Cal. Next time take the truck tho so you don’t have to wait for a ride**

Callie placed the phone back in her purse, touching the screen gently before looking back to the mirror. The last of the potent perfume was misted around her before she strode out with more confidence in her legs, but she struggled to hide the beaming smile on her face. 

Her hair barely covered it, and she could only hold her hand over her mouth so briefly before someone would question her. 

It was the first time in weeks she’d had any encouragement, that whatever decision she was making was one to be _proud_ of. 

“Ah who made you so giddy?” Silvy asked as she approached with her armfuls of cash, but Callie shook her head, hiding her face. “Is it a boyfriend?” 

She didn’t answer, but the glimmer in her eyes said it all. 

“Is it the guy who asked for a private dance from you?” 

Callie turned, her brows furrowing. “Who?”

“I dunno, some cop?” Silvy wiggled her brows, and Callie’s heart hammered. 

_Did Nick come here?_ “What booth?” 

“The back room!” 

She found Jacob, and confirmed that a cop had indeed bought a private dance, but wouldn’t release anymore information, for ‘confidentiality’. 

Callie moved with a little more pep in her step, pushing her bottoms a little farther down her hips. 

It gave her some thrill- to think Nick would’ve come all this way, in his state, to show his support? And to buy out a booth? Maybe their talk had opened his eyes a little more; maybe this was their time to mend it all, even if it was a strange setting. She checked her hair again before standing before the door, tightening her fists and limbs to rid the excitement. 

_You’re working- keep up the persona._

She opened the door and slipped in, and turned once the door was shut. 

Callie faltered, her heart thundering in her ears and her feet stinging to run. 

Nick wasn’t sat in the chair, but she recognized that sneer of the man gazing at her, reclined comfortably in the plush chair. His hair was still parted neatly, his clothes still preppy and clean, but everything about the way he looked at her was grimy. 

“Evening,” he spoke, sitting forward. “I knew the first time I saw you at the station I’d seen you somewhere else before,” 

Her hand was turning the knob, slowly, but why? She could just leave, but how much faster could he move? 

“You’re Callie, that pig-noses hood rat, but before that, you were Valeria. You were my favorite girl here before you quit. Who woulda thought fate would bring us back together?” He jeered, standing. 

_“You two are fucking disgusting.”_

“The fuck do you want?” She whimpered, wishing she could kick off her heels in case she needed to run. 

He laughed, as if confused. “I paid this entire booth! I want the private dance I threw down all that money for, just like old times,” 

“Old times?” 

_When have I ever danced for this creep!?_

“Switching back to your own kind again?” He fixed his ironed shirt, tucked into his pleated khakis. “You’re not wrecked from that Orc fucker, are you? Shame if you weren’t tight-“ 

_Orcs don’t belong with humans._

That was enough. Her actions were messed, and she nearly fell out of the cracked door when he stepped towards her. Callie didn’t even go back to her room. She rushed around the back of the public booths and men throwing their earnings, her breath coming from her in panicked puffs as she searched. 

“Matuk!” She hissed, nearly falling into him when he stood swiftly. “We have to go,”

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s a guy here- he’s- I think he’s the one that did it, Matuk we have to go,” she stumbled, spinning to watch all her sides. 

“What guy?”

She tried to point him in the crowd, but he was probably smart enough to avoid chasing her, or had made his escape by now. “He’s gone- I need to go back to Nick’s, please let’s go!” 

“What about your stuff?” 

↠

The ice pack was just starting to slosh around over his hand when he heard the hard slam of a car door outside and loud clopping of heels coming up to his door through the rain. 

The door was unlocked and flung open just as he’d managed to stand, finding Callie stumbling in with only an over-sized jacket covering her, her purse clutched against her chest. 

“Callie? Cal what’s wrong what happened?” Nick stressed, catching her arms when she leaned against him, her head hung. “What the fuck happened?” He demanded when Matuk followed in. 

“She saw someone at the club,” 

“Gerald, it was that fucking douche that you work with, Nick,” she held his shoulders, looking up. “I think he did it,” 

“He was there?!”

“I think he’s the one that attacked you. The things he said and the shit he has said,” she was rambling.

“He knows,” Matuk interrupted, and Callie spun to look at him. 

“What?” 

Nick was shaking his head. “We’ve been looking for him since he visited the station and told us about him. I don’t know how he knew you’d be there tonight-“

“You knew he was missing and didn’t say anything?” Nick hollered, but Callie spun again and pushed him back. 

“You knew? You fucking had an idea who did it and you didn’t tell me?” 

He stuttered, looking to Matuk, but he was quietly excusing himself; he’d collect his jacket another time. 

Nick exhaled, but she moved his hands when he held her shoulders. 

“Tell me!” 

“Yes okay yes, I had an _idea_ but I had no grounds to make an accusation-“ 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t want to scare you,” he grumbled, at that moment realizing how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. 

“If I’d known there was a goddamn psychopath on the loose maybe I would’ve been more inclined to stay home!” 

“I didn’t want to hold you back!” He yelled, and her eyes narrowed. “You told me- I listened. I won’t keep you locked up anymore,” he exhaled, leaning back against the frame to the hallway. “I knew the kid was with you, and there’s a shitload of Fogteeth around, but I didn’t know he’d be there. It was just a hunch before, but now, ugh,” he groaned, rubbing his head. “Did he touch you?” 

She shook her head, looking down at the jacket. “I got my purse and ran,” she scoffed, looking back up at him. “He dipped before anyone could find him,” 

Nick rolled his eyes. “Slippery fucker,” 

She took a few steps forward until she was before him, catching his line of sight. 

“So we’re both on house arrest until this shithead is found?” 

Nick nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” 

Callie quirked her lips, finding it troubling to keep eye contact when she said, “I’m sorry too.” His ears flickered. “About earlier, I didn’t… I didn’t listen either,” her head dropped nervously. “You said people would react and something could happen, and I told you to let it go, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it’d get this bad,” she breathed in deep. “And I’m sorry,” 

He nodded, now nervously averting his gaze when she looked at him, and her brows furrowed when he chuckled. 

“We got way off topic again,” 

She grinned. “At least we’re not fighting about it,” 

He gave her a lopsided smile. “I won’t make you stay here. If you wanna go home, they’ll watch you there. I won’t keep you where you don’t wanna be,” Nick told her, and her eyes softened. “I won’t do that again,” 

Callie shrugged. “I think we’re safest when we’re together, honestly,” 

“And listening,” he added. She nodded again, and tilted her head when he moved the hair from her cheeks. 

“You look really pretty,” he said softly. 

“Shut up,” 

The one hand that had been touching her cheek was now cupping her jaw, joined by the other so his thumbs could stroke her cheeks. Her smaller hands hung off his, and it was all coming back again. The deep desire, the yearn to be whole again. 

“You said together,” he mumbled. 

She pulled his palm over, kissing it gently with her eyes still held. “If you listen to me, I’ll listen to you. No more fighting,” she breathed, her chin lifting when he at last pushed off the door frame and stepped into her space. 

“We’re bound to fight,” 

“Couples do that. I'm done running circles. We both fucked up,” she said more seriously, leaning up on her tiptoes. 

“We’ll fix it,” he pecked her lips, and she whined. “We won’t mess up again,” 

She responded with a full kiss, her arms moving around his neck as he pulled her flush against his chest.

The dark cloud looming over was gone. The palpable tension between them was vanquished, and they had filled one another’s space again. To think, they’d been no more than an arms reach away from one another for the past weeks, but there had been so much between them until then. 

“I missed you so much.” she breathed, holding his head firmly. 

Nick chose to embrace her, his face scrunching when Matuk’s jacket rubbed under his nose. “You smell like the kid.”

She snorted, gently patting the back of his neck.

* * *

Blue haze was peeking in through the bedroom window when she woke, her eyes slowly fluttering open. 

Nick’s heavy arm over her stomach was the first sensation, then the warm bed under them, and the plush covers around her legs. Her head turned, bumping his, snorting softly when a range of emotions flickered across his sleeping face. 

They’d spent hours laying in bed and talking, sorting every mess and untold argument. It didn’t go without shouting, or either getting up angrily, but they’d always crawl back into bed and calm, ending one dispute to fix another. By the time all the lasting irritation or sadness had been drained, they were tangled, and exhausted, but there was nothing left to fight over. What had taken weeks to get to was ended in one night. 

She had recognized that smile, even as sleepy as he was. “What?” 

“Say it again,” 

“Why?” She giggled. 

“Cause it was funny,” 

“It was a one time deal,” she wiggled closer, hiding her face. 

“C’maaaan,” he implored, moving her shoulder. With a defeated groan, she looked at him again, blowing her hair from her face. 

“Will you be my one and Orc-ly?” 

There was no stopping his laughter after that, and it didn’t really end until he had passed out, sprawled across his mattress with Callie pressed tight against his side. 

She giggled, moving his arm from around her, but wincing when he growled. His hand had swelled to double its normal size, so surely he’d need to go back in and get it looked at. She could already hear his doctors screaming. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sitting up as he grumbled and cradled his hand carefully against his chest. 

“Ouch,” he slurred, looking at her sleepily with half his face hidden. 

She leaned forward, rubbing her dry, eyeliner stained eyes as her short legs stretched out, her arms soon following. She looked back at him when her knees rose against her chest, hiding her grin behind her shoulder. 

“What?” He smirked, rolling on his back. 

“Remember last night?” 

He nodded, his good hand grazing her back. “You expect me to forget that?” A little shrug was his answer. 

She hummed in content, her cheek against her arm as his blunt fingertips snuck under the hem of his borrowed shirt and skimmed along the length of her spine. 

“You’re gonna put me to sleep again,” she murmured, reaching back to pull the loose shirt up to her shoulders so she was exposed. His wide hand splayed, rubbing the skin that pricked with goosebumps, the ends of his fingers curling farther around her sides with every sweep. 

“We need to get your hand checked out,” she breathed, her eyes remaining closed when he sat up, scooting along until he was beside her. Only when his arm curled behind her neck did she open her eyes, dropping her arm to lean into his kiss. 

“We can go later,” he said against her mouth. 

“Wouldn’t you rather go sooner than later?” She asked, but she was touching his neck, her fingers dipping under the neckline of his shirt. 

“Busy,” 

She chuckled. “Busy?” 

“Have some stuff to catch up on,” he groused, catching her head when she leaned back into his hold as he left wet, open mouthed kisses down her neck. 

Back against the mattress she went, another hand slipping up her flat stomach, and dragging between her breasts to flatten over her neck. He kissed her lovingly, without reservation, no hesitation. 

Her body responded, bowing under his touch and trembling as he parted to push the baggy shirt up and over her head, her hair falling in short petals around her head as she pulled him back over her. 

His knee split hers, and her feet curled against the back of his thighs, moaning, whispering. 

He took solid moments to hold her once his own shirt was gone, detailing every soft curve of her form, soaking in her rays like she was the sun. Her thin arms held tightly around him, her body starting to move beneath his, gasping for love when he kissed her again. 

“Ouch.” He grunted when her knee raised and bumped his side. 

“Sorry.” She slurred, her bottom lifting when he curled his fingers around her panties. 

Once off her feet, she sat forward, meeting his mouth, but turning to push him back. 

He admired her thighs when she threw one of his hips, her hands disappearing between them to pull his aching member out. He tensed, chuffing and moaning softly as she slid his tip up and down her passage, her hips rolling in rhythm. 

He gripped her hips, his own starting to rock up the longer she denied him entrance. “Calista,” he moaned, _desperately_ , his head slowly lowering when she let her knees slide out, and his dick slide in. 

Flush over him, and his head sitting tight against her womb, she held her stomach, caught somewhere between a laugh and uncomfortable breath. 

Nick gazed up at her in pure amazement, following her hands where she lead him to place over her breasts. 

He struggled to keep his eyes open when she started grinding, slowly, her head craning back. 

It was better than the strongest high, or a nap after swimming all day, the sunburn on your shoulders enough to keep you warm as you slumbered. To feel him, moving inside, touching all that had forgotten such sensations- it was mind bending. 

She sang over him, her body becoming progressively more limp as she fucked him, with no darkness in her heart or conflict in her mind. 

Nick curled up, enough to watch where he vanished inside her, starting to pull her up so he could bring her ass down in loud claps against his pelvis. Sharp stabs along his healing ribs sent him back with hard chuff, but his arms also fell to his side, completely at the mercy of her. 

Her agile hands rested against his broad pecks, moaning his name lovingly, riding him with her head hung. 

“I missed you,” she gasped, stiffening to snap her hips quicker. “Oh god I missed you so much,” 

“I missed you,” he repeated, pulling her hands when her palms snaked into his. She leaned over him closely, her short waves fanning around them as she kissed him, her tongue slipping into his mouth. 

She gasped when his arms suddenly flung around her waist, holding her tightly so his hips could hammer into her. Callie held the back of his head when he hid his face, growling loudly as he started to feel her stiffen. 

“Nick-,” she breathed, pushing on his shoulder, but he sat up, holding the small of her back as she rocked swiftly over him. 

_Hit, hit, hit,_ over and over again, slamming against the place only he could touch. “Fuck!” She cried, leaning back on her hands, but now he exclaimed, gripping her hips as they both rocked. “Theretherethere!” She cried, her voice heightening, but then breaking when her form stiffened, hovering close as he carried on. 

Nick hollered; it was tightening, throbbing all around him, squeezing him dry when he met his end suddenly, and brilliantly, looking back up to kiss her lazily. She gyrated so slowly now, milking the last of him, his load pooling deep inside her. 

She giggled every time he flinched, her fluttering walls around him making him the cause. 

Nick held her with an unfaltering hold, kissing her slick collarbones, rubbing her slim back, chuckling when his finger found the small divet in her lower back. 

“This was what you needed to catch up on?” She asked softly, her hands smoothing across his face. 

“You, yeah,” he sighed happily, kissing her chin. “All the lost girlfriend time,” 

“Girlfriend time?” 

“Mhm,” he mouthed against her jaw. 

She sighed, but then groaned, causing him to lean back and look at her questioningly. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” 

His brows pulled in. “I thought we-“ 

“I meant cause of the ‘imminent danger’,” she used finger quotations, and he exhaled exasperatedly. 

“How could I forget?” He fell back, _oofing._ She stayed atop him, knowing if she moved, it would have to be well coordinated, so instead leaned onto her elbows closer to him. 

“How did you figure it out?” She questioned, her knuckle tracing his chin. 

“It just came to me when I heard him talk. His voice was the same, clear motive,” he explained, patting her side. Her brows furrowed. 

“Me?” 

He nodded. “I think he wants me out of the way so he can get to you,” 

By the way her eyes distanced, he knew she was thinking, flipping the upturned stone in her mind. “Makes sense… ugh,” she pressed her head under his chin, wiggling against his chest with most of her weight bared upon her elbows. 

He kissed her head repeatedly. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” 

“You too, nothing more,” she grinned, giggling when he pecked all over her face. “Can’t we talk to someone though? Ward at least?” 

“Not without them finding out Fogteeth are involved,” 

“That could get you fired,” she stated, and he nodded. “I hope they found something useful at Two Hands,” 

“Maybe they can rough up the boss to get his info-“ 

“No!” She sat up swiftly, panic in her eyes. “No he’s a good guy, don’t let them do that,” 

“I don’t know if it’ll actually happen-“

“If they mention it please say something. He’ll work with them, they don’t need to be physical,” 

“I’ll tell them,” he reassured. She rested her chin on his chest, wiggling her hips to study their situation. “We should get up,” 

“Why? We can’t really do anything else outside of home. Let’s stay in bed all day,” she smiled, kissing him. 

“Do what in bed?” He asked against her mouth, holding her ass when she wiggled her hips again. 

“You said so yourself- I have boyfriend time to catch up on,” she simpered, kissing his cheek, trailing down across his jaw. He whined, smooching her bare shoulder, her body starting to rock up and down, pumping his gradually growing dick. 

“But first,” she kissed him once more, pinning his arms down. “We’re going to the hospital,” 

“Nooooo,” he whined, holding her when she tried to move. 

“We’ll eat lunch and dinner in bed when we get back,” 

He chuffed, holding her face, when something dawned on him. “I didn’t have any nightmares last night,” 

Her brows perked up. “That’s true,” 

“You’re my lil’ dream catcher,” 

She snorted, holding his face also. “Why did it take so long for us to figure this shit out?” 

“Cause were both fuckin’ idiots.” He chuckled, earning a wide smile from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust a lil bit of CUTE before SHIT hits the FAN🖤


	15. Calamity

He winced, not nearly as bad as before when his arms rose, yet the iron in his weak hand trembled nonetheless. Her own flew up to steady the weights, but he shook his head, pulling in deep breaths. 

“This is too soon,” 

He shook his head again, slowly straightening his arms. A long groan, and Callie supported his elbows. 

“Nick,” 

“S’fine,” he forced, but nevertheless dropped his arms, his head falling back as he exhaled forcefully. 

“You’re supposed to do your _breathing_ exercises,” she implored, struggling herself to carry the weights away. He snorted, lacing his fingers atop his head. 

“I got all squishy, I need to bulk back up,” he groused, but now she snorted. 

“These ain’t no marshmallows,” she smiled, patting his bicep. “You still have 2 weeks to ‘bulk up’, so be kind to your body, please?” 

He shrugged, extending his neck to kiss her sweetly when she leaned against him with a hold on his hips. 

“Okay c’mon,” she kissed him once more, stepping back. “Arms up,” 

With a stubborn groan, he flexed his biceps, bringing his elbows in and out in sync with deep breaths as she did. 

“Hurt as much?” 

“Nah, haven’t needed the ice packs in a couple days too,” he grunted, lifting his hands and curling over sideways. It was true- the past week had been kinder to him. Sleeping was easier, even sitting, and gradually he’d found himself needing his pain meds less and less. 

“Can you snarl again?” she giggled, baring her blunt teeth in exaggerated fashion so he would, but his split lip didn’t sting any longer. The stitches had done their job, and now pink scars across his lips, high cheek and brow were his daily reminder. 

Nick’s arms hung off her shoulders when she stepped towards him, applying the slightest amount of pressure against his ribs on either side while he took deep breaths, in and out. 

“Y’know if you don’t feel up to going back-”

“We still have 2 weeks,” he kindly interrupted, earning a stubborn purse of her lips when she looked up. “I’ll be good to go by then,”

“Until some jackass swings or rushes you,” 

“I’ll swing back,”

“What if you can’t?”

He stopped, his wrists crossing behind her so she’d move that much closer. She wasn’t moving, but it wouldn’t be long until she was chewing her lip or bouncing her heel, and that’s when the anxiety would flow instead of trickle. 

“Take a breath,” he told her, placing a lingering kiss on her temple when she looked away, respiring. “I won’t go right back into the heavy stuff, baby,” he kissed her cheek. “Keep breathing,”

Callie nodded, blinking past the constricting of her chest she could feel behind her eyes, and at last melted against him. Nick embraced her, swaying gently, hoping to eradicate this attack before it even peaked. 

“It’s been happening more lately,” he said against her hair, but she only groaned. 

“I don’t want anything else to happen to you,”

“Nothing will,” he consoled, leaning back to study her eyes. Worried, but otherwise clear; she avoided this one. He kissed her, squeezing her shoulders beneath his hold when she whimpered. “Nothing else is gonna happen,” he added. 

Yet there was still dissatisfaction on her face before she said, “What about _him_?”

“Fogteeth-”

“You need to tell the police, Nick,”

Before he could turn from her, she held tight, leaning over when he looked away. “You have to at least give someone a heads up that their own officer is a suspect!”

“And who do you think they’d believe?”

“You don’t know until you try,”

But when he opened his mouth to protest, she held a finger against her own lips, silencing him. “And I know- I remember: I don’t know the full scope of your past experience as an Orc,” she started, and he calmed, resting his hands on his narrow hips. “But this is an exception, Nick. You have to at least give Ward notice. He might know how to handle something like this,”

“Please?” she asked again, leaning far back to keep eye contact when he craned to pull her into a hug again. 

“Only to Ward for now,” he agreed, chuffing happily when she curled her arms around his neck. He could hear the faintest of a ‘thank fucking god’ muffled between her shoulder and his jaw, stirring a throaty chuckle from him. “Have so little faith in me?”

“If you weren’t so stubborn,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

Above all, he agreed for her peace of mind; whatever it took to keep her from falling into that dark pit that had recently become her common hangout. As the days drew nearer to his return to work, the worse it became, always telling him how deeply she worried for him.

A piercing ring of his phone from inside caused a low rumble in his chest, and he reluctantly detached from her with a final kiss upon her cheek. He wobbled away, waving his hand back when she insisted he grab the cane and found his phone vibrating against the tables surface. 

“Uh oh,” he mumbled to himself. “Hey Ma,”

“Yah, hey Ma, like you keep up with your own parents enough to act all casual,” his mother derided, her heavy accent making him snort away from the phone before he’d take her seriously. 

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” he mumbled, still grinning. 

“ _But will you start keeping in contact? Ah, who knows! Where’ve you been, my boy?_ ”

“ _I’ve been home, resting_ ,” he sighed, nodding when Callie gestured to the kitchen as she walked by. 

“ _And in all this time you couldn’t call me or your father? Not even your auntie?_ ” She was really playing it up now, but he knew below the dramatic teasing, she was pissed he hadn’t kept in better contact. 

“ _You could call too, y’know_ ,” he grumbled, following Callie when she held up two options for dinner.

“ _Do you need me to send screenshots of all the unanswered calls, boy?_ ”

He snorted. “No, it’s fine-”

“Why are you in such a good mood?”

He stuttered a bit, leaning against the counter. “Feeling better,”

“Uh-huh, _and who’s been helping you then?_ ”

Nick paused, watching Callie grab various items from the fridge and tug on his hand when she needed his height up from the top shelf above the fridge. He pinched her hip playfully after she shoved him half-heartedly, giggling when he pulled her back to mouth her cheek. 

“ _A friend, Ma_ ,” he lied, but he heard her blow a raspberry. 

“ _What’s her name then?_ ” Dinara asked, and he could just see her arms crossing, and that all-knowing look that made him feel 10 years old again. 

Nick sighed; no use hiding her now. “Callie,”

Cal spun, cocking a brow, but he knew the gears were rotating in both the women's heads. The silence from the other end of the line was unnerving. 

“Callie?”

“Mhm,”

Another brief silence. “Nick,” Dinara said, flatly, and he tensed. 

“Mhm?”

“Is she…?”

He swallowed. “Yep,”

“Human!? _She’s human?_ ”

Before he could even get anything out, a male voice started to butt it’s way into the conversation alongside hissed curses as Nick’s father finagled the phone from his wifes grasp. 

“Nick? Nick, she’s human? How did you manage?” Oleg asked, laughing. Knowing his dad, he was probably holding back on the questions he really wanted to ask: how much easier are humans than Orcs?

“Shut up, Oleg- give it- _go, back off_. Nick, how long? _How long have you known her?_ ” Dinara came back in, but now Nick had moved from the kitchen, pointing to his knee when Callie raised her hands in question. 

“ _Nine-ish months?_ ” he pondered, sitting at his table with a hard exhale. 

“ _That long_ \- why haven’t we met her?”

“Look how you just reacted,” he mumbled, and he was sure his mothers jaw slammed shut. 

Another beat of silence. “ _You haven’t always had the best relationship with humans, my boy,_ ” she sighed. 

“ _This one is different_ ,” he told her, his eyes following Callie. “ _I’m sure she’s not entirely human, sometimes- she’s too perfect_ ,”

“Is that so?” She asked, kinder, and he only gave her a little ‘mhm’. “How’s that?” 

He leaned onto an elbow, pondering a moment. “ _She’s never treated me like I was an Orc, like- I don’t feel like an outcast around her. I can’t put it into good words, Ma- she’s just… she’s just my girl_ ,” he finished, feeling foolish for being unable to explain just why he was so endlessly in love with Callie, but also knew a great majority of that was their long talks, and the way she looked and touched him, and finished his life before he’d even planned it out thus far. 

“Oh Nick, _you fell hard for this one?_ ” Dinara asked lovingly.

“ _She is the one, Ma_ ,” he grinned when Callie cracked a goofy smile after handing him a few of the chicharrones she’d just finished frying, alongside an ice-pack she tossed on the table. He kissed her hand before she stepped away, earning another smile. “ _Come meet her_ ,”

“Oh- _really? Really?_ ” Dinara squeaked. “ _He wants us to meet his human girlfriend_ ,” she said away from the phone, and his dad answered with something unintelligible, the two of them carrying on a conversation of their own. 

Nick continued to watch Callie dance around his kitchen, stumbling here and there- she was still a bit shaky from earlier, but even without normal grace, she was a moving piece of art. 

“ _When can we go over?_ ” She asked. 

↠

“Okay- ah _okay okay_ ,” he exhaled, his stomach tensing with every swipe of her tongue over his sensitive head. She finally slid back, her lips gliding over the velvet skin of his shaft and placing a sweet kiss on his relaxed dick before swallowing the last of his load. 

He was lifeless against the mattress, panting, a toothy grin on his face. He summoned enough energy to look up at her, but groaned, watching a seldom trail of semen that had trailed down her chin and under her jaw start to makes it way down her neck. 

_Holy fucking shit fuck_ \- “On your chin,” he pointed, rolling before he stared for too long and got going all over again. 

Callie left with a giggle to the bathroom, leaving him deflated, but otherwise entirely content. He stretched pleasantly, his joints popping and his leg shaking, finally stilling across the cool sheets with a long chuff. 

“You okay?” she asked, leaning naked in the doorway and throwing back a small cup of mouthwash. 

“Still bitter?” he frowned, cracking an eye open. She shrugged, weighing her hands before wandering away again. He heard her spit before she called, “It’s not that bad- you know me,”

He _hmm-ed_ , moving his arms around like he was making an angel in the snow. 

But with the approach of light footsteps came the soft impression on the bed beside him, and then Callie leaning over to place soft kisses across his jaw, resting on her elbows beside his head. “Your turn,” she smiled, purposely sitting down against his hand. 

He chuckled, but looked at her, reaching to hold her face. 

Her brows furrowed, her lips pursing. “What?”

“You know I was on the phone with parents earlier?” he asked, and she nodded. “They wanna meet you,”

Callie sat up, alarm ringing in her eyes. “They do?”

He nodded, resting his hands under his head. “They do,”

“Do they know about what happened with us?”

“Nope,”

“Why?”

“What’s the point? It’d only make things tense,” he reasoned, and she nodded indifferently. 

“When?” she asked. 

“Saturday, here. Told them I’d cook,” 

She exhaled, pushing her hair back. He grinned; he always enjoyed seeing her face so clearly, even if she was worrying her lip nervously. 

“They’re gonna like you,” he buoyed, snatching her hand to kiss her fingers. 

“Says the one who told me how vicious your mother was when she met your other girlfriends,” she whined. 

“You’re different,” 

“Oh yeah?” How?”

Nick sat up, inclining close to her, and kissing her sweetly once before saying, “I didn’t plan to marry any of those other girls,”

It didn’t register right away, but when it did, he saw the gravity of his words flicker across her face. First it was a loose smile, then the furrowed brows, them pure confusion, all making him smirk. 

“What?” she croaked. 

“You heard me,”

She situated better, scooting ever so slightly closer on her knees. “How’re you so confident after everything that’s happened? You never once thought we were hopeless?”

“Sure, but I never stopped feeling it. No matter what I did. It’s been the same since I first saw you. Hit me like a bullet to the heart,” he explained, witnessing the glaze move over her eyes. 

“Wh-” she cleared her throat when her voice cracked severely, moving her hair behind her ears. “Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Cause of the shit you’ll get for wanting to be with someone like me,”

He blew air. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone says, even if it’s our families. And it doesn’t have to be soon, hell it can be on our _deathbeds_ , but no matter what, I’m gonna marry you one day Callie. Even if we’ve only known each other so briefly, and some of it was apart, I can’t fathom a life without you,”

She blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “You’re so sure you wanna spend that long with me?”

“Are you asking me, or yourself?” he questioned, leaning on a hand closer to her. “If you don’t want to spend that long with me, it’s okay-”

“I’m asking you. I know what I want- but do you?” she asked softly. 

He kissed her again, resting his forehead against hers. “I want forever with you. Everything about you-”

“My anxiety?”

“Callie-”

“I can never give you a family,” she grieved, but he hushed her, kissing her silent. 

“Anything, everything, always. You can’t scare me away,” he laughed, and so did she, but the restlessness of her heart was still rampant. “But first, you gotta meet my parents,”

She frowned. “Is this how you felt?”

“You’re probably feeling worse, honestly,”

Her ankle was wiggling beneath her bottom. “If they end up hating me I’m so sorry,”

“They won’t. If they do, still can't get rid of me,” he muffled against her neck, sitting forward onto his good knuckles. 

Her hands guided his face back to hers, audibly sighing when she kissed him. He moved the fringe from her face, his wide palms holding her head as she showered him with smooches. 

“Can we get dogs after we're married?” she asked, and he snorted again, nodding against her kiss. 

“Pitbulls,” they said in unison. Some light giggling, the soft smacking of their kisses as he started to push her back, her arms snaking around his neck as she pulled her legs from under him and spread her knees to his sides. This was pure- smothered beneath his big body, touching every sturdy strand of muscle beneath his rough skin that rubbed against hers. 

“Mm,” he breathed against her skin, moving down. “You smell good,” he bit her ribs gently, making her squirm. “Like really good,”

“Oh yeah?” she sighed, her waist raising when his cheek scraped down her stomach, lithe fingers fisting in the sheets above her head. 

“So good.” he growled, his body snaking down between her legs, maneuvering his broad shoulders until her spread thighs were pushed closer to her chest, and he could worship her soaked core, listening intently to the way she cried his name.

* * *

“Nick go-” she giggled, pushing him away. “Daryl’s right there!”

“Two minutes,” he growled against her cheek, his arms around her preventing any escape. 

“No,” a chaste kiss on his lips. “Go, get out, go!”

Nick grumbled, his face souring as he unwound from her reluctantly, his arms still heavy at her sides. “Are you starting soon?”

“Maybe- is that why you’re so hot to trot lately?” she exclaimed. 

“Well duh, you just smell so… _fertile_ ,”

Callie laughed out, finally getting him off and turning his shoulders towards the door with a smack on his ass. “Take the cane,”

“Nope,”

“Take it,”

“Nope,”

“Nick-”

“I’ll see you later,” he called, opening the door to find Daryl waiting with his hands in his pockets, staring at the Orcs scattered about the street in their cars. 

“Hey partner,” Nick chimed, trying to squeeze his way out as Callie walked at him with the cane. 

“Why are there so many 'round here?” Ward asked, holding the door. 

“Let's get going-”

“Cane,” Callie snapped, shoving it at him. Ward smirked watching Nick buckle and grab it, glaring at her before a final kiss. 

“How you doing Daryl?” she asked, stepping out for a quick hug and peck on the cheek.

“Good as I can be,”

“Yeah, how’s your wife?” she asked through a forced smile, earning a small push from Nick. 

“Still hates you,” he quirked back. “Your boy have all his pills?”

“Oh yeah- make sure he doesn’t ‘accidentally’ forget the cane, yeah?”

Nick shot her a final narrow glare, chuffing playfully as the two officers walked from the house. Surely he didn’t need the assistance anymore; there wasn’t even much of a limp left, but the extra help couldn’t hurt. Anything to have him as close to normal by the time his recovery was up. She knew there was no way his captain would approve any additional time off if needed. 

“Got your lil mama back in the home, huh?” Ward smiled coyly, and although Nick chose to shrug, he caught the Orcs puffed chest and hidden smirk. 

“Yeah,” he finally said, sitting in his sedan. 

“So where to, blue boy?” Ward asked, pulling onto the street. 

“Hanks? Same spot?”

“Dunno, is it secluded enough to share this urgent information that couldn’t wait?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Those were Callie’s words,”

“Were they true though?” he eyed Nick, who in turn was messing with the cane between his knees.

“Yeah, more or less.”

 

“Okay,” Ward exhaled, setting his half eaten sandwich aside and ready to also set aside their small talk that Nick had kept up the duration of the car ride and visit to the regular lunch hangout. “What’re we doing here?”

Over the weeks, Nick and Callie had started to pick up on each others nervous tics. She would sometimes run her tongue over her bottom teeth as if she had filed tusks, and now his knee was bouncing.

“That prick we work with- Gerrald?” Nick started. 

“What about him?”

“I think he did it,”

“Did it… did _it_? _Him_?” Ward intoned, leaning forward onto his elbows. 

Nick nodded. “He’s always had an issue with me, but I think he wants to get his hands on Callie,”

“How’d you come to that?”

“You’ve heard the shit he said, left in my locker- spread around the station? ‘Nd bout a week ago Callie picked up a shift at Two Hands-” he waved off Ward’s surprised gaze. “She said he was there, had bought out a private dance with her and cornered her saying shit about how she used to be his favorite girl, some shit about old times,”

“Just from that?” Ward questioned. 

“He’s always had his eyes on her, all this time. I wondered why he fuckin’ picked and bugged when Callie first showed up at the station, and I think that’s why. He could’ve been planning this for years but didn’t have the momentum until I came into the picture,” he groaned, running his hand over his head.

Ward pondered, the pieces almost audibly clicking together in his head. “The shit the attacker said to you,”

“Sound familiar?”

They both leaned back in their seats, but Ward held his own chin, shaking his head. “Gerrald dipped,”

Nick blinked. “What?”

“Bastards been MIA for a few days now. Heig called his wife and she doesn’t know where he bounced off to. There’s a warrant out for his arrest, too,”

“ _What?_ ”

Ward nodded. “Took off with a few shotguns and ammo from the kit room, but we can’t find him anywhere,”

“Shotguns?” Nick hissed, and Ward nodded. 

“I think it’s worth telling Heig,”

Nick shook his head. “We can’t,” 

“Look I know the shit you put up with-”

“I have Fogteeth involved,” Nick mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes pinched shut. “You have three behind you,”

Daryl didn’t move, no matter how severely tempted he was to turn and glare, but instead, the full front of his silent fury hit Nick. There was that vein that bulged along his temple, and when he talked-

“How involved?” He said through grit teeth, his outward appearance otherwise calm. 

 

She shielded her eyes against the winter sun once the mugs were set down, and searched the numerous cars parked along the street for a familiar face. But when she finally found him sat in his car, just like every other day, she whistled loudly. Matuk turned, pulling an ear bud out, and nodding when she waved him over. 

Callie pulled the jacket tighter around her waist as she sat, cradling her own mug close to her chest. Another storm was moving it’s way over LA, with strong gusts rattling the screen roll that usually hung before Nick’s porch. With it up, she could always survey from a window inside, and had come to recognize all of the cars the Fogteeth used, and of course Matuk’s SUV. 

“Hey cutie,” she played, but he moved past her into the other seat, grabbing the hot mug. “Figured you got tired of sitting in the car,”

He shrugged. “If I could nap it wouldn’t be so bad,” he mumbled, sipping the creamy tea. 

“Can’t switch shifts?” she inquired, her feet raising to rest on the beams. 

“Nope,”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her nails drumming against the ceramic mug. He shrugged again. 

“At least there’s compensation,”

“Money in being Fogteeth?”

“Sometimes,”

She nodded. “Maybe I should join,” Now he laughed, and she cocked a brow. “I could do it,”

“If you sprouted tusks maybe,” he chuckled, his hoarse voice the lightest she’d heard yet. 

“And I gained about 100 pounds worth'a muscle?”

He nodded, situating deeper into the seat. Callie watched him, seemingly moving effortlessly despite his impressive size. She was sure he could crush the mug that looked minute in his hand easily if he chose. 

“How old are you?” she asked then, and he eyed her. “Im just curious- Nick always refers to you as ‘the kid’,”

Matuk rolled his eyes. “Seventeen,”

She blinked. “Really? So young?”

He nodded, flashing a forced grin. 

“And already with kids?” She’d tried numerous times to ask the question that had picked at her since she’d first met him at the supermarket, but never had the chance to bring it up casually until now. 

“Who said I had kids?” he grimaced. 

“When you first started following me around, you left a store with diapers and lollipops,”

“For my baby sisters,” he corrected, looking at her. _Ahh, that’s precious_. 

“A girlfriend waiting around for you all day?” she kept on pushing, keeping eye contact from behind her mug. 

“Nah,” he mumbled, looking back out to the street. “Boyfriend,”

Callie smiled, her mug resting in her lap. It made a little more sense now- before she thought his politeness was simply because he wasn’t interested, but Nick had told her that it didn’t matter what race a girl could be. If they were aroused, an Orc would know, and more than likely act on it. “What’s his name?”

He looked at her nervously, before answering, “Larek, but I call him ‘Lala’ so my family thinks its a girl,” 

She got that. She didn’t know how Orcs usually handed that type of predicament, but she knew _full_ well just how old school Mexican families could be. 

“How long?”

“Couple years,” 

“I wish I could offer some wisdom but I think I’d end up saying something color blind instead of doing any real help,” Callie stated, adjusting in the chair. 

He gave her a sidelong glance. “That’s funny coming from a human who dates an Orc,”

“That’s different,” she assured. 

“Not too much. So what’s next for you and munguz?” he asked, sliding down his chair that barely held him. 

“Dunno, figured we’d see where it goes,” she said although Nick’s bold statement about marriage had saddled her mind since that late night. 

“How’re you so calm?” Matuk asked, and she looked at him again, puzzled. 

“Calm?”

“Cause you’re-”

The sharp, piercing screech of tires burning across the pavement pulled both of their attention before them, but Matuk was on his feet before Callie even recognized what was happening. 

A sedan had swiped one of the watching Orcs cars, and was winding down the street hazardously as the driver struggled to regain control, but only gained speed with every foot covered. First it was the one that was hit, then another car, then a third following the hitter, all peeling onto the road after him. 

“Go inside.” Matuk ordered, gliding down the steps and across the yard. 

It had gone from a hit and run to something alarming, instantly. She didn’t bother with the cups, nor the knocked over chair as she stumbled into Nick’s home, locking the door behind herself. 

She wanted to look out the window, finding the silence from outside more unsettling than anything, but couldn’t find the courage to do so. She stood in the middle of his living room, the impending loom of disbelief snaking up her legs. 

“Matuk?” she called weakly. _Should I hide?_

But then figures started moving outside, at a distance. Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears, she couldn’t tell what it was. 

Shadows against the windows, what she hoped were Fogteeth. 

The doorknob jiggled, and yanked roughly in it’s joint. 

“Oh fuck.” she whispered, backing up. Her hand patted her hips- no phone, and when her eyes jumped, she couldn’t find it. 

A deafening bang from the other side of the door made her flinch, and it rattled in it’s frame. 

The brief words passed behind the door distracted her hands that had jutted beneath the couch in search of the bat, but when there were two more thunderous bangs, her fingertips brushed the bat. 

When she rose with it clutched in her hands, the door swung open, smacking against the adjacent wall. 

No way this aluminum bat would stop the two lumbering Orcs stomping in, their tusks covered with ski masks, but there was nothing left to do but fight, even though she was ready to burst into tears and hide. Everything on her trembled terribly, especially her hands that couldn’t seem to find decent grip. 

Callie screamed inarticulately when they lunged at her, swinging wildly, but also backing herself up into a corner if she kept moving away. 

She tried stepping forward, but they’d reclaim their space when she ultimately flinched back when one of them spooked her. 

They watched her carefully, their hateful eyes without fear, even if it meant taking a swing from a bat. 

If she moved any farther back, all she’d have left was to run out the back, but what if they-

“Gotcha!” 

A set of arms wrapped around her in a crushing hug, and yanked her up, effectively shaking the bat from her hands. 

“Let me go- get the fuck off!” she hollered, kicking, fighting, screaming, clawing for anything. One of the Orcs grabbed her ankles as another closed the door barely hung from its hinge, and the mysterious figure holding her backed up, carrying her away. 

The hallway was narrow, and she used it to her advantage. 

With a loud shout and sudden twist of her body, she managed to wiggle enough that the person holding her loosened and bounced awkwardly against the wall, and she pulled them to the ground as she fell. 

But she was up faster. She didn’t bother looking- she was on her feet, bolting for Nick’s room, but another hand around her wrist yanked her back, and the crack in her arm made her cry out. 

She slammed against the ground with a hard slap, the wind coming out of her in harsh coughs. 

Callie felt the blinding smack of a fist against her temple before she heard it, alongside the loud popping of her neck when her head flew to the side, her cheek smacking against the floor. She raised her hands, but another one blew into the side of her face.

Coppery blood filled her cheek, and her lip stung like a bitch when a large hand clutched her neck mercilessly. She clawed at it, her feet kicking again when the weight of a knee in her stomach stopped her, more coughs squeezing from her. They were heavy- the hand was tight, breathing was difficult. 

So was focusing- she couldn’t make out what was leaning over her. Definitely a person, but who?

They were breathing in her face, and the trace of a hand alongside her thigh made her flinch, and fight again. 

Her mouth opened to scream just as the wide swing of a boot landed against her side. She choked, her chest aching once the air had left her body but still constricted, but another blow followed soon after, right at the center of her stomach. 

She wheezed, clawing across the floor, reaching, but another hand yanked against a firstful of hair, pulling her up. 

“Look at me,” a male snarled, but she was too afraid. 

A sharp slap against her cheek, and she tried to move from their grasp, her scalp burning. 

“Look at me!” it bellowed, and her eyes finally opened, but this time, she couldn’t stop the torrent of sobs that left her. 

“See what you made me do? You know how long it’s gonna take for that face to heal before I wanna see you dance again?” he shouted, back-handing her. 

She forced blood from her nose, her hands raising shakily to try and pry Gerralds hands from her hair, but her hand could barely make a first. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you go” he taunted, tossing her down. 

The back of her head bounced off the ground, and it felt like ages before she could roll on her side, and focus on Nick’s room, but her vision was washing over with red. 

_Just crawl- fucking crawl, Callie_. She tried. Her arm was useless- she couldn’t even lean on it without weeping in pain, but her limbs didn’t listen. It took too long to tell each to move, and by the time her good arm had extended, he was pulling her back by the ankles again, the Orc from before grabbing her and flipping her. 

She screamed for Nick, for Matuk- anyone, but there was only the perverse laughter behind her. 

The tear of duct tape made her flinch, and she tried to kick her legs when she felt it winding around her knees, digging sharply into her skin. 

Callie screamed- begging for help past the blood coating her mouth, but the Orcs monstrous hand smothered her face, and held down against her chest. 

“Almost done, Valeria, hang on sweet girl,” Gerrald cooed, moving over her, and grabbing her wrists. 

She sobbed, and fought against him, muffled behind the strong hand pushing her head sideways, but he easily grasped her wrists and wound the tape around them, tighter than around her knees. 

“We’re gonna go now,” he breathed heavily, bringing her broken face up. “We’re gonna go away, and I’m gonna show you,” he paused, sneering, moving her plastered hair from her face. She whimpered, trying to move from his hold. “I’m gonna show you why you should’ve never left hunan.” 

“ **NO, NO, HELP!** ” She screamed, thrashing, even as the two lifted her. 

There was another loud slam of the door swinging open, and suddenly she was dropped, her head bouncing against the floor again. 

It was quiet a moment, her body so still. The pain felt like a dull ache, bearable, almost muted enough to let her sleep. 

But she turned, and saw the two Orcs fighting off more that had rushed in, but the new ones were brandishing the Fogteeth colors. They overtook the attackers, two more Fogteeth bolting over her and down the hall in pursuit. There was so much commotion- yelling, the table breaking under their iron bodies as they fought, more shouting. 

Callie curled inwards, the pain in her abdomen worsening by the second, spreading down her thighs. The throb in her skull was debilitating, and the light coming in from the door was extreme. 

“Callie?” 

Her crusted eyes opened, but she flinched when hands reached for her. 

“It’s me, it’s okay,” Matuk panted, carefully moving her hands up and cutting the tape. It ripped painfully from her skin, her broken arm ringing. She cried, her arms remaining drawn in as the tape around her knees was released. 

“You’re okay- you’re gonna be okay.” he kept saying, but it all kept getting worse. 

She sobbed when he moved his arms beneath her, cradling her against his chest and carrying her. 

She slipped back and forth into blackness, only to be boomeranged back into consciousness and pain when someone jostled her. The muffled shouting was bugging her, and she slurred at them to shut up, but wasn’t sure if anyone understood her. 

There was the blaring alarm of an ambulance, and people around her, but she couldn’t open her eyes against the sunny skies, so instead pressed her inflamed face into Matuk’s chest. The cold air felt better, but everything was hurting. Her stomach felt like it was folding in on itself, her arm constantly sending resounding shocks across her chest, her head throbbing. 

She begged for relief when she could, but there was only the stiff mattress of the gurney beneath her once Matuk had placed her there, and his hand leaving hers when she was loaded into the rig, a neck brace pulling her jaw upwards. 

She was wincing, her lip stinging when her face pinched, and her hands shaking as she rested them over her stomach. 

“It hurts.” she sobbed, a paramedic leaning over her to talk, but everything was incomprehensible. 

All she could understand was pain. 

_I want Nick_. 

↠

Nick bypassed the check-in counter, pushing through anyone in his way, ignoring when nurses tried to stop him. 

He smacked the doors that lead to the triage center, the ones that wouldn’t open no matter how viciously he thrashed. 

“Jakoby calm down!” Ward begged, trying to yank back the raging Orc, but he was like a wall of iron, unmovable. 

“Where is she-“ he panted, spinning to find anyone besides the nurses urging him to calm down. “I need to see my girlfriend,” he tried, but they weren’t helping him. They continued to shut him down, ordering him to leave, telling him he was scaring the other people waiting in reception. 

“Open the fucking doors!” He bellowed, but Ward had him around the shoulders now, finally dragging him back some. 

“Nick shut up- c’mon move, move with me,” Daryl struggled, pulling him away, but now security was coming at them. “Nick you need to calm the fuck down or you’ll be asking for her behind bars,” Ward hissed, but it was like he was caught in a delirious cloud. He was wobbly, gripping Daryl’s arms harshly. “He’s a cop- we’re LAPD, it’s fine,” Ward told the security guards, still trying to speak to Nick directly. 

Ward spoke in his favor, trying to rid the small huddle of nurses around them, insistent that Nick leave, but he shook his head with raging eyes, struggling not to growl or shout anymore. 

“My girlfriend is here- her sister called me,” Nick pleaded. 

“Unless you’re family you can’t go back until-”

“Her _sister called me!_ ” he snapped, but Daryl pulled him back again. 

More indiscernible shouting, the security starting to reach for Nick’s hands even though Daryl did his best to talk over everyone and reserve his rights. 

“Nick!”

His head spun, finding Rosie coming from the door he’d tried opening, still in uniform. 

In two steps he was across the room. 

“I called him in,” she declared, both of them turning away. 

“Ma’am you can’t-”

“I said I vouch for him.” she snapped, silencing anymore rebuttal from the people around them. 

Finally through the door, he didn’t lag in the slightest as they started their way through the curtained beds and overall commotion of an emergency room. 

“All they told me was she was assaulted,” he quavered, his eyes jumping wildly. 

“She’s been in and out since she got here- she has a lot of tests and scans to get through but she can at least respond when she’s awake,” Rosie told him, and at last approached a curtain. Pulling it back only revealed an empty room, and both of them spun wildly. 

“Where-” Nick started. 

“Stay here,” Rosie said as she left again, but he didn’t want to stay. 

It smelled like blood, and there was some peppered across the floor alongside soaked gauze. Her shirt was there also, cut down the middle, stained. 

He whined, holding his head, walking in circles. He was fighting the urgency to run through every room of the hospital to find her, and be by her. He needed to know she was okay- that she could talk, and know he was there. 

He spun when the curtain rings scraped, but it was Rosie, alongside a male doctor. She looked grim, like news he didn’t know if he was ready to hear had been delivered to her first. 

“This is the father,” Rosie introduced, shakily, and confusion flashed across his face. 

“Sir? You’re Miss Flores’s partner?” the doctor asked, and Nick nodded. “I’m Deshawn Smith, I’m the attending that triaged Calista when she came in,” he explained calmly, extending his hand to shake Nick’s weak grip. 

“Nick,” the orc mumbled. _Father?_

“The extent of her injuries won’t be known until we’ve finished the scans she’s in right now for, but I don’t see anything life threatening based on preliminary tests,”

Nick exhaled, having not realized he was holding his breath.

“What we know right now is her right arm is broken, and all of the gashes on her are superficial, but she might have some bleeding on the brain which is why I've ordered a number of scans. Now there’s some information I need from you,” Deshawn said, pulling out a small notebook and pen from his breast pocket. “How far along was she?”

“Far along?” he repeated, and Rosie’s hand rested on his arm. 

“Nick-”

“In her pregnancy, sir,” Deshawn clarified. 

That broke through his thoughts; shattered the haze like glass. His heart that was once clapping madly in his heart was only a small flutter now, the wind effectively knocking from his lungs. A stunning presence was suddenly filling his heart, a blinding disbelief turning his gut. 

“She’s pregnant?” Nick cracked, and Rosie’s hand on his shoulder tightened. 

Deshawn adjusted the cards clipped to his scrub nervously, blinking a few times. “Were- were you unaware?”

Nick nodded. 

The doctor cleared his throat. “Sir,” he adjusted his glasses this time. “I truly hate having to tell you this, but unfortunately she’s miscarried,”

_...what?_

_What?_

His mouth motioned to speak, but he couldn’t force it up over the crushing disappointment sitting on his chest. Just as the presence in his heart had become so familiar, _so_ quickly, it was gone- ripped away. All at once, the reality of the situation came crashing back around him after his momentary escape into bliss.

“We believe it was the blunt force trauma to her abdomen and overall stress the attack had on her body that caused it,” Deshawn explained, but he only saw vacant eyes staring back at him. “I’m truly sorry, Nick. Would you like me to come back to speak with you when you’ve had time to process this news?”

It took a few times repeating in his head to really hear what he’d asked, but Nick shook his head. 

He listened to him explain that Callie was beaten brutally, but for the time being, they didn’t expect her to pass or fall into a coma. He listened as he explained that she’d be in hospital for a few days, but recovery time wouldn’t be as lengthy as his. And he questioned, silently, in his own head, how he hadn’t known that she’d been pregnant? How did he not sense it? 

↠

Almost 2 AM. 

The hall had gone quiet long ago, mostly nurses moving around at this point. 

Exhaustion hung on him, but he was too restless to sleep. All day he’d followed nurses from room to room, listening second hand as more of Callie’s family came in, all gathering in the lobby. They didn’t come up to him, but he didn’t approach them either. He’d returned to cowering away, his head hung. Sometimes Rosie would sit by him, sharing updates, encouraging him to eat or drink, but he couldn’t. Concern roiled his gut; there’d be no keeping food down. 

By the time she’d received her own room, he didn’t pour into her room when her family did. 

Although he’d waited all day to even see a glimpse of her face, he couldn’t be near when they learned he’d knocked her up. They already hated him, he thought. They’d scream and murder him when they knew. 

It engrossed him entirely. Callie had been pregnant, by him, with _their_ baby, and now she wasn’t. All that time not knowing something was blooming in her womb. He buried his face in his palms again, breathing deeply. 

The world could swallow him up from his feet at that moment, and it would’ve been a relief. He’d rather feel anything but this. 

Nick didn’t think anything of the footsteps approaching him until he spotted boots out of the corner of his eye instead of the normal nurse attire. 

Matuk and Doghru, but younger male was worse for wear. Half his face was swollen, cut, bruised- a bandaged hand held close to his chest. 

“Nick,” Dorghu acknowledged calmly, waiting for Nick to stand. His handshake was weak, as was his overall mental state. He didn’t try to shake hands with the kid. 

“We need to talk,” Dorghu stated, motioning over towards the stairwell. 

 

“Matuk,” the scarred Orc nodded, leaning against the railing to the stairs. Matuk stepped forward, his eyes fleeting many times from Nick’s hard gaze. 

“It was the cop,” he said first, his speech slurred. 

The delirious anger was immediate. It turned Nick, having to steady himself against the wall. He fucking knew it- he knew he’d try to make a move but thought the protection would be enough. 

“He came with other Orcs, from the Volki- they distracted Jregh and Sarod and Urul and ambushed me when I was checking around your house,” he explained, ashamed, his head hung. “They were trying to kidnap her when I came in, but the cop bolted before anyone could get him-”

“ _He_ did that to her?” Nick interrupted.

Matuk nodded, sniffling. “I’m sorry,”

He tried not to hate him- it wasn’t his fault. It really wasn’t, but without Gerrald there to murder, he needed someone to blame- to make sense of this nightmare. 

“Is she okay?”

“I haven’t seen her yet,” Nick mumbled. _I haven’t seen my own fucking girlfriend yet_. Nick exhaled, looking at Dorghu. “She was pregnant,”

The head of the Fogteeth stepped forward, looking between them. Dorghu looked as shocked as Rosie did when they first explained her condition, but with a roll of his shoulders, he’d composed any emotion. 

“It didn’t survive,” he stated, already knowing. Nick shook his head, on the verge of collapsing. His body had never ached so terribly. 

A sturdy hand on his shoulder brought his eyes back up. 

“I’m sorry,” Dorghu said, sincerely, offering comfort as best he knew. But Nick moved his hand, his arms raising in discomfort. He didn’t want condolences, or pity- he would handle that heartache when Callie was by his side. 

“I need to find him,” Nick grumbled. 

“We have the two that were with him. We’re working the details out of them,” Dorghu explained. 

“How long?”

“However long they withstand torture,” Matuk said, looking up. “Volki can be resilient,”

“Not limitless, though,” Dorghu corrected, nodding thoughtfully at the young Orc. 

“When you have him, I want to do it. I want to be there,” Nick said behind mashed teeth, breath flaring through his nostrils. “You have to tell me,”

“We will. You’ll square it, I’ll make sure,”

Nick nodded, and grabbed Dorghu’s hand when extended. “Give Calista our best.”

The two departed down the steps, and Nick saw the severe limp Matuk was burdened with as he struggled down. He took the moment to lean back against the cold wall, and close his eyes, letting the silence of the stairwell seep into his thoughts. 

Fury rested at the borders of his coherent thoughts, but he could bridle it until the time came. 

With a deep exhale, he walked from the stairwell and back down the hall, turning the corner to sit before Callie’s room again. 

Rosie was there, and smiled vacantly when he approached. 

“You okay?” she asked as he sat beside her. 

He shrugged. “Needed a minute,” he lied. 

“Yeah,” Rosie’s voice broke, her hand smoothing down her wild curls. “Callie’s awake, talking,” she told him, and his head snapped in her direction, his eyes brightening. “She’s asking for you,”

A remnant of a grin curled his mouth, but he looked at the door. “I’ll wait,”

“They’re not mad at you, Nick. They know it wasn’t your fault,” she told him, grabbing his arm.

“That doesn’t change how a parent feels about their kid being mauled,” he grumbled. 

She sighed. They both drifted in their own thoughts for some time, only looking up when the commotion in her room heightened; they must’ve been getting ready to leave. 

“She didn’t tell them about the baby,”

His head hung. _Our baby._

The door opened, and they both stood. Callie’s parents and Patricia were there, tired, finding Nick immediately. 

If it hadn’t been for the clear misery on Luciana’s face, he would’ve flinched when she reached for him, but instead, there was a tight embrace pulling him down. She was strong for her size, just like Callie, her grip unyielding as she suppressed small sobs. 

“Watch over her,” she said, leaning back, holding his face. “I trust you. Stay by her side, yerno.” she said softly, her eyes red from obvious crying, a tissue clutched in her palm. 

Nick nodded, nervously shaking hands with her wary father as they passed. 

He didn’t expect Patricia to step forward, her usual cutting expression softened and her hands clasped before her, but he sidestepped, struggling to flatten his hateful expression. 

There was no way he could speak to her without lashing out. He saw the messages- she had no business being here. Although she turned, and said his name, he instead briefly hugged Rosie before finally stepping to Callie’s room. 

He moved silently, the room dark with the exception of a small wall light before the head of the bed. 

But he saw her. 

Curled on her side, her battered face moving up when he closed the door behind himself. Nick released a shaking breath, the burn behind his eyes enough to bring a hand to his face to rub over his eyelids. 

Her casted hand reached for him just as he made it to her side, but he couldn’t kiss her split lips when he leaned over her, carefully lifting her whimpering body into a sitting position so he could cradle her against his chest. She was weak; her arms around him were loose, her body mostly limp in his hold. Nick rocked her carefully when she wept against him, moving her dirty, crusted hair from her face so he could look down at her, and mindfully wipe away tears that slipped down her bruised cheek. 

He was fighting tears of his own, detailing her bloodshot eye sat inside a bruised socket and deep lacerations on her temple, the shallow burns around her knees he drew up closer, bringing her into his lap when he sat on her bed. 

Nick made sure her IV tubes didn’t twist before he held her face, gently _sshing_ her as her hoarse cries lessened. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he repeated featherlight, clearing his throat often. “I’m so sorry- I thought you’d be safe at home with them all there,” 

Her swollen lip trembled, her eyes still glossy, but she shook her head, a hand curling weakly under his chin. 

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, sniffling and wincing when her face stung. “It would’ve happened no matter who was there,”

He shook his head. “This should never've happened,”

Callie shrugged, barely, adjusting her head against his arm and closing her tired eyes. A lingering kiss on her cheek relaxed her, continuing to rock her gently. She was dozing off, barely managing to keep her eyes open; he couldn’t stop looking at her. He’d left her one way and come back to disaster. All the time he waited to see her felt so brief; it was little to endure now that he had her in his arms, and could hear her speak. 

“I didn’t know I was pregnant,” she sighed, craning her neck back to look up at him. “I promise I didn’t know,”

“I know, I know,” he said shakily. _Fuck- keep it together, you shit head_. “Do you- do you know how far…?”

“They said a couple weeks,” 

His face tightened. “Tiny little thing,”

Callie’s face was sorrowing, tears brimming her eyes once again as Nick’s own filled, unable to fight back the burn any longer.

“I thought it couldn’t happen, Nick,” she whispered, holding his head when it dropped into her shoulder, a choked cry shaking his broad shoulders as she threw a wobbly arm around his shoulders. His sobs were silent, but they swayed him, the tears soaking through her hospital gown. With delicacy, and grief, he clung to her injured form and fell apart, lifting his damp face to wipe it crudely against his shoulder when she started, knowing he had no business falling apart when she was the one handling all the aftermath. 

But she still wiped his face, her powerless hands holding his cheeks when she kissed his forehead, whispering comforting words and declarations of undying love. 

Their turmoil settled, ending with Callie lied nestled firmly against his chest, his arms about her protectively. He listened to her breathe as she slept, thankful for every one exhaled. It wasn’t until those moment did he realize that the signs of her pregnancy had been there all along. 

The savory layer that had coated her skin, that allured him so deeply, was gone. Where once she smelled luscious, and so full of life, was only ill health now, and blood. 

He moved his cheek against her head, watching where his knuckles pressed tentatively against her swollen stomach. 

She stirred, and he rubbed her arm, pulling her closer when she burrowed her face against him. 

Everything on him was exhausted- he needed sleep, but he couldn’t flip the switch in his mind. The longer he stayed still, the stronger the ire became. Above all, he wished he could turn back time, and never leave the house, but with the unlikeliness of that came the desire to find Gerrald. 

He couldn’t stop the vile thoughts from bombarding him; what would he have done if he’d taken her? How far would she have been hidden away? 

Nick exhaled, pinching his eyes shut and wrapping her tighter in an embrace. 

All this time passed, everything they’d been through to finally make a baby, and then it be ripped from her hands. 

By him. 

It was all because of _him_. 

He wiggled his face next to hers, shushing her softly when she whined. 

_I’ll make this right, Callie. I’ll make it right for our baby_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In another life, little one. 🖤  
> Two chapters left of Bell Peppers; I've already started working on part 2: _Milagro_


	16. Summit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I'M FINALLY BACK 
> 
> This took forever and I'm sorryyyyyy moving states is such a process xD but here it is!! enjoy and I always appreciate feedback! 🖤

The tea would do well to keep his hands warm once he was outside, as well as wake him up a bit more. 

The nightmares had come back full force- shaking him awake, jostling a sore Callie every night since she’d been in hospital, and he always felt so fucking stupid for being the one who needed consoling when she was the one bleeding their baby out and in need of rest. She never complained or silenced him. There was only the calming touch she’s always offered and words that stilled his uproarious sorrowings. 

_You need to get your shit together_ , he’d scold himself, but it was impossible to stop the recurring recollections of seeing Callie, beaten and bloody, her stomach swollen in late pregnancy and blood staining her inner thighs at the center of his home. Sometimes it was a swaddled mess of blood and small body parts, laid about the spot Nick was attacked in his backyard, but he could still hear loud cries of an infant carrying around the sky. He wouldn’t tell her, and he hoped she just assumed he was having relapses of his own nightmares that first plagued him. 

Nick shuddered, but rolled his shoulder to shake off that unease. He’d face that hurdle later, when he was faced with it again.

The cold blast of rainy air from outside helped clear him up, but it only caused more discomfort as he found Matuk at a concrete bench at the far end of the loading zone. 

He bumped his shoulder, shoving a cup under his nose when he turned. 

“Callie insisted,” Nick said, and sat beside the younger Orc who still cradled his injured arm close to his chest and brandished the deep gashes across his face dealt from iron fists. 

“Thanks,” Matuk mumbled, sipping nervously. He was bundled deeply in layers; Nick could only imagine what it was like dealing with shitty weather and recovering, but the kid was so silent; it never seemed to faze him. 

“You come out here to ask about them?”

Nick shook his head. “I already talked to Morn,”

Matuk sipped his hot tea. “Callie make you?”

Nick nodded, sighing. “She asks about you a lot- wishes you’d come up and visit,”

The teen looked down at the drink in his hands, his thumbs flicking the lid noisily. 

“She’s not mad,” Nick sighed. 

He shrugged. “I let them get to her,”

“You were ambushed,”

“You telling me as a fact or to make yourself feel better?”

“Both, but I know it’s true,” Nick stated, looking at him, though he refused to look back. Nick looked up at the rain falling in sheets from the overhang, clapping loudly against the road and on tops of cars that were parked. “I heard it from the other ones that you managed to fight off 3 of those Volkis,”

“I still-”

“3,” Nick interrupted. “I’ve dealt with them before, at work. There must be something about those Russian bred Orcs cause it took me and 2 other officers to just get cuffs on one, but you took down 3, _avall_ ,” 

Matuk lifted his head some, but still not towards Nick. “I’m sorry about your little one,”

They both looked in opposite directions nervously, more hardship on Nick’s part, but still gave the young one a nod in acknowledgement before standing and stretching. That was enough of the cold night for now. 

“Callie says you should go home and rest. She already told like four others to take up your shift,”

Matuk scoffed, quietly. “Ordering people around?”

Nick nodded, grinning. “Says you should go spend time with Larek.”

Matuk’s ears flickered, and withheld spinning in Nick’s direction as he walked away, hiding the growing smirk on his face. Nervously, the younger Orc scanned his surroundings clandestinely. No one near by this time, so he let go of the breath he’d held. He pulled his phone out, finally finishing the message he’d been writing to Lala before Nick interrupted. 

It was the same routine everyday: find one of the higher ups, ask for updates, do a once over of the area himself. There were double the Orcs now- all blended into the day to day bustle of a hospital, but all equally ready to throw down at a moments notice. Most were at the entrances, but a few were scattered up the halls to Callie’s room, always nodding at him as he passed. 

But everyday passed that Gerrald was still at large was another day they struggled with paranoia. 

Callie would tense worse than Nick every time someone knocked at the door and would sometimes thrash when a nurse came to check on her at night.

The panic attacks were worsening- it took hours to calm her sometimes, but he refused to let them sedate her and put her into a trance like state. He’d hold her for days if it meant she could come out of it clear minded, without having to worry about the after effects of drugs. Most of the time though, she managed. The bruises were at their worst, as were the gashes along her temple, cheeks and lip, but she still cracked smiles here and there, the occasional little joke. But he could see that depression lurking below the surface. 

Some instances he’d catch her laying her hands flat over her stomach, staring off, picturing what could’ve been. He didn’t interrupt her, but always had his arms open and ready for her. 

He couldn’t go back up to her room without another rice krispie treat- she was a sucker for them and always cheered up a bit with a little extra something sweet. 

Nick stopped trying to look at the ‘Congratulations’ balloons and newborn teddy bears lining the check-out counter some time ago. There’d be no getting over it unless he faced it, and accepted it. 

 

_“We can always try again,” she mumbled softly, plucking at the zipper to his hoodie and her cheek mashed against his chest. He rocked sideways to better look at her, pulling hair from her cheeks when their eyes met._

_“You’d wanna?” he asked, and she nodded._

_“Eventually,”_

_Fingertips traced her tender face, sighing when he moved to rest his head against hers._

_“Do you?” she asked, her nose flattened against his cheek when she craned her head back, but blew a raspberry when he only nodded. The look she gave him was all knowing, and there was a brief battle of furrowed brows until he buckled._

_“I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything like that,”_

_“I don’t,” she fired back, kissing his cheek. “I want all boys,”_

_His head snapped in her direction. “Boys? Plural?”_

_She nodded. “I want a big family now that I know it can happen. Bunch’a little Nick’s running around.”_

_He couldn’t suppress the chuckle and wide smile imagining such a life of chaos and excitement. To see a little mutt of them sat on Callie’s hip, maybe a couple others running around the house, all brandishing unique features…_

_Nick hid his face, whimpering when she stroked the back of his head, stilling the commotion in his heart._

 

He placed the small congratulatory present back, confident that one day they’d get there, but for now okay coming to terms with everything else. The constant reminder of their situation did more and more to convince him that having a baby would’ve been the wrong time, too. Who knows how long this would drag on for. 

With a few more treats snagged off the rows under the register, he was back en route to the elevators, nodding at every Orc before he finally made it to her room. 

A soft rap of his knuckles against the door signaled he was coming in, but he didn’t expect Diego and Luciana to be by Callie’s side, laughing as she did. 

“Hey baby,” Callie grinned, a small flash of a worried frown making him swallow a chuckle before he leaned over to kiss her cheek and place the rice krispie in her waiting palms. 

Luciana always had warm hugs to offer, and would hold his face as she insisted he tell her why they didn’t see him enough. He’d hunch over, trying to remain serious despite his cheeks being squished. 

“Sir,” Nick intoned, shaking Diego’s hand, but relaxing when he smiled kindly at him. 

“How’s Matuk?” Callie asked, slowly leaning her elbows against her thighs when he sat beside her on the bed. 

“Cold and grumpy,”

Her giggle was uplifting, her hand smacking the top of his a pleasant peak into more playful sides that had recently lain dormant. “You’d be grumpy too if you were stuck out all day in the cold,” she murmured, her cheek reddening when he kissed her fingers.

“Like you were never split,” Luciana cracked, causing Nick to hide his face against the back of her hand. 

“You go back to work soon?” Diego asked, situating in his chair. 

“Couple weeks,” Nick sighed. “I should take off more time-“

“No,” Callie shook her head. 

“You need-“

“A couple weeks. I didn’t have my face kicked in like you,” she battled, making a face when he did. 

“Mija you can always come stay with us,” her mother reminded, her dad nodding. 

“I don’t need a nurse, I’m fine,” 

“There’s nothing wrong with extra help,” Diego tried, but Callie shook her hands. 

“I’m fine- I can walk and bathe myself and everything, I’m fine. I don’t need assistance for this,” she argued, notedly pointing to the cast on her arm. 

Her parents stared at her, but she knew they were critically examining the bruises and cuts, probably weighing how affected by a brain bleed she could be having and not telling them. Her eyes narrowed, leaning back against the raised bed. 

“No,”

“Calista-“ 

“I don’t need help,” 

“It doesn’t hurt-“

“I’m staying with Nick I’m _fine_ ,”

“Maybe you should hear them out,” Nick mumbled, wincing when she pinched the back of his hand. Her glare of desperation silenced him, and he dropped his gaze. But they could both feel her parents looking at them curiously, probably wondering why she was being so adamant about taking care of herself when she’d never been one to deny a helping hand. 

Nick looked at her again, and could see her building the courage in herself, taking a steadying breath before turning back. 

“Ma I’m okay. I don’t have any internal injuries or anything. It was only this and a miscarriage,” she croaked, clearing her throat. 

It took a moment for it to register, but Callie’s shoulders drew in when the shock flickered across their faces, their postures leaning in.

“Perdiste a tu bebe? Cuando? Cuando tiempo tenias?” Luciana dripped, her hands hovering over the bedding. 

Callie’s eyes were already glossy, but she blinked rapidly and looked up to prevent the downpour. “I was only a couple weeks,”

Nick couldn’t look up. He couldn’t face them. He knew they must’ve known it happened while they were split; what would they think of him? Would they accuse him of taking advantage of her? Ask if he covered it up with a staged attack? Would they believe him if he said he could barely stand the thought of being so close to his own child and not knowing it? 

There was a long, drawn silence. Her parents looking at one another, leveling with their own second-hand despair, and Callie stiffly holding her father's hand. 

It was obvious they didn’t know what to say, or how to react. No one had expected this, especially from Callie. It had been long assumed she would never have any chance of having children, let alone conceiving, so was it better to offer words in hope of it happening again sometime in the future, or apologies that affirmed she could never be a mother?

“I’m sorry-for both of you,” Diego replied throatily, looking at Nick when he turned enough. “I have nothing to offer… my own daughter, I’m sorry I don’t have better words, but I’m sorry, mija,” he uttered, her small hand between his rough, old palms. 

“Maybe another time.” Luciana tried, grinning sadly when Nick nodded and looked up at Callie, her eyes brightening again. The red around her iris was vibrant, and shining, the bruise about her soft cheeks deep. There was no looking at her without taking on a swell of emotions, but he’d smile everytime she did. He kissed her hand again, answering the question in her searching eyes:

_Yes, of course we’ll try again._

With soft words of comfort and another tight embrace from her mother, the sour topic passed after questions were answered, hopefully not to be brought up again anytime soon. They still insisted she stay with them for the remainder of her recovery, but there’d be no telling them that living at their house meant endangering them. They didn’t notice the Orcs placed about the hospital, or how jumpy Nick was. Leaving them out of the loop was for their own good, even if it made Callie’s foot twitch at an accelerated rate when they left. 

He distracted her with walks around the room, and even grabbing her hands to take the lead in a pitiful attempt at slow dancing, but it made her beam from ear to ear as he spun her slowly and did his best interpretation of something along the lines of a mambo. Her toes were crushed in the process, but she’d laugh and go along with it, eventually pressing her face into his chest when her giggles were uncontrollable. 

Lunch was sitting in the cafeteria under a tall window that displayed the heavy rain cascading down the glass, and the two chatted quietly and ate, Nick soon enough moving his chair right beside hers so she could lean against him comfortably and continue to people watch. 

They wandered back to her room when her vitals were demanded, but would again wander back out through the hospital, sometimes stopping to talk to the Orcs they’d come to know since her brief stay there. She wished Matuk would come in and say hello, but Nick told her of the guilt he obviously felt for her condition. 

“If he doesn’t come in soon I’m gonna drag him inside.” she’d said, but yawned as they shuffled through the cafeteria line again for a quick dinner. Anything to avoid the hospital food that was delivered to her room. 

↠

“You’re gonna chew through your lip, baby,” Nick mumbled, and she side-glared at him, switching to nibbling on her nails instead. He rolled his eyes. “They’re gonna be fine,”

“What if someone follows them home?” she asked, watching him move around the room. 

“They wouldn’t know it was your parents,”

“What if someone was watching them?” she pressed. 

“There’s 2 Orcs every five steps-”

“But you don’t know who else is watching while _they’re_ watching,”

“I mean at this point, I think it would’ve been obvious if we saw any shifty dudes or rival Orcs around here,” he pointed out. “I _did_ tell you to wait till we were home,”

“If I would’ve told them not to come it would’ve been more suspicious,” she groaned, slowly spinning on her bottom to lower her legs over the edge of the mattress. 

“Could’ve said you wanted to sleep,” Nick mumbled, holding her hands as she stood slowly. She wrapped the extra length of the IV around her wrist, pulling the pump along as she scuffled to the bathroom. 

“That’s a lame excuse,” she called out. 

Nick kicked his shoes off, mimicking her silently. “Relieved you got it over with though?”

The toilet flushed, and she was shuffling back out, her sweats hung low on her hips and the tank-top twisted around her stomach. “Could’ve done without telling anyone, honestly,”

“Really?”

“Yeah-” she crawled back into bed, grunting and wiggling until there was room for him to slide in after he flipped off the lights and plugged the IV back into the wall. “Rosie knows, that’s enough,”

He slid his arm under her head, her knee pushing between his thighs and sighing in content when she snuggled against his chest, his warmth soaking through her clothes. His robust arms that shielded her from the outside were an immediate comfort. The stark reality they faced didn’t seem so daunting when she could curl against her rock like this, and know he was there to hide behind in tougher moments. 

“You won’t tell your parents, huh?” she asked against his chest, and he shrugged. 

“They haven’t even met you,” 

She looked up at him, her hair feathering around her cheeks. “Wouldn’t they smell it?”

He craned his neck to sniff thoughtfully along her jaw and neck, his nose against her collar making her giggle. “It’s not on you anymore,”

A small, low _hmph_ was all she emitted, her line of sight bouncing around. “Guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore,”

Nick was at a loss for words, so he kissed her chin sweetly instead so she’d curl back against him. She hummed softly when he rubbed her back, her small form melted against his. She toyed with the hem of his hoodie that had hiked up his side a bit, her nails occasionally scraping the skin on his hip, sending goosebumps firing up his sides. 

The shift of her head moving woke him a little after he’d started to drift, and the delicate press of her lips under his chin opened his eyes. 

His heavy hand moved up her arm as hers slid under his shirt, dragging up his stomach. 

Nick chuffed low, conflicted when she kissed his jaw after he angled it up, but her knee sliding up his hip and her body wiggling closer brought him out of the dreamy state her hands and kisses were holding him in. 

“Baby,” he groaned, his efforts useless to stop her from sitting up and sliding over his hips in one smooth motion, pushing back on his chest. “Callie c’mon,”

“Hm?” She was moving his head aside with hers, kissing his jaw, dragging her mouth around and massaging his broad chest as she better situated against his pelvis. Holding her form was automatic, as was moaning when she started to gyrate; slow, long grinds over the growing bulge under her pussy, her breathing accelerating as he fell further into her trap. 

“Hey-” but she was kissing him, holding his face so he couldn’t pull away.

It was radiating off of her in potent waves, turning his blood to a rolling boil as he inhaled rapidly, letting it sink into his senses. When she was in this state, he wished she wasn’t straddling him so he could run and sit in the cold night, and let reality sink back in. 

The desire burned in her viciously. It was expected, but it was like chewing glass when he’d have to deny her, the same thing day after day. They had been advised of the hormone drop and its effects after the first time her impulses had suddenly increased tenfold, but it didn’t make dealing with it any easier. 

_“You can always try again, but I advise waiting until after your next period to give your body some time to recuperate.” her doctor said, intentionally eyeing Nick who in turn looked at him questioningly._

Boy was he wrong about who would make the first move.

“Touch me,” she breathed, arching her back encouragingly when his hands slid upwards. 

“We can’t,” he growled, but still exhaled hard, and slid his palms flat up across her ribs to cup her swollen breasts when she rocked harder over him. She moaned deliciously, clinging to him desperately as he pebbled and rolled her erect nipples between his fingers. 

He was breathing heavily, his face mashed against her when he held her ass, admiring the way she rolled above him. His composure was faltering- he was losing his ability to say no the longer he breathed her in and touched her hot skin. He was careful to avoid the bruises along her body and the sore cut on her lip, always holding her jaw in lieu of her cheeks. 

His head snapped up when she tugged down on his sweats, finding his dick severely rigid, and dripping with precum. 

“Callie,” he whined, holding her hands when she started pulling his dick straight up, squeezing up his shaft. “Callie-” he gasped, but his hips were raising, and stiffening. It was near impossible to resist her touch, and the way she whispered sweet nothings to him that all muddled together in a soft song he couldn’t help but follow blindly.

“You can’t,” he tried again, clenching his fists against his forehead when she shimmied out of her own pants. 

Small flickers of nightmares flashed before his eyes- images of her beneath Gerrald, screaming for help- he dropped his head back. _No, no, no._

“Callie- Cal stop, you can’t, you have to rest, your body isn’t ready,” he rushed, but guiltily lifted his hips so she could tug his pants down further. Everything on her was alluring; her wet lips, her breasts hanging from her lifted shirt. Looking at her sex was enough- he wanted to ravish her, love her, _put another baby in her._

His jaw clenched when the overwhelming flush coated him, his eyes growing heavier; it was almost like spiking a fever. 

“I need this,” she breathed, leaning closer to him. “I need you, I can’t take it,” she whined, kissing him softly, her cunt brushing his shaft. She’d always say that, but until this night, he was able to stop her and take the silence she’d blanket him with after being denied, but it was obvious she’d reached her breaking point.

He growled deeply, his fingers lacing with hers when she balanced over him, watching her expertly move to his tip with a dip of her hips and position it just inside her entrance. 

“We have to be careful-” she started to slide down. “They said you have to wait-”

“We’re not trying to make another baby right now,” she cooed, kissing his cheek when he looked away to breath, graciously accepting his entire length. “They didn’t say we couldn’t have sex. I need you, amore, I’m losing my mind,” she moaned, kissing his jaw again as she started rolling in long sweeps over him, her slick core sucking him in again and again. 

“Fuck, Callie,” he sighed, his eyes closed and mouth agape, lazy hands sliding up her thighs as she fucked him. 

“I can’t take it anymore,” she cried, gasping when his thumbs rubbed circles near her groin, his hands barely held against her hips that he loved watching roll back and forth. “I need you,” she again said, looking down between them. “I need you so badly,”

He was motioning to protest again, but she held steadfast, quickening her pace despite her stomach clenching uncomfortably. She couldn’t stand the desire anymore. It consumed her finer than cold water, and overwhelmed her thoughts, distracting her all day. It reminded her of the stunning absence in her body, and how she’d yearned for Nick’s touch- to be reminded of something familiar, and comforting. 

“Please-” a desperate kiss, “Please, just this once and I won’t ask again-”

“Shh,” he hushed, her desperation evident, and it broke his heart. 

Carefully he rose, his arm around her and slowly flipping them so she was pressed into the crisp bedding and he between her thighs, his mouth meeting hers in a loving lock as he pushed back in. She moaned, her face contorted in pleasure, holding around his shoulders tightly as he loved her. 

She sang beneath him, thanking him in repeated kisses and soft whispers, her breaths coming in long puffs. Everything about her was alive, and vulnerable, and he felt twisted and fucking disgusting for enjoying this so much, but he couldn’t stand how sad she’d become when he’d deny her the love she so fiercely needed. 

“What if someone comes in?” he puffed, looking at the door as his hips kept steady rhythm. She shook her head lazily, her hands sliding to hold his face. 

“I’m getting close,”

He watched her limp body start to tense, her bruised face start to tighten. “Callie-”

“Don’t cum inside,” she breathed, starting to curl inwards. “Harder, baby,”

He covered her mouth when she cried out, struggling to fight off his own end he felt fast approaching. Nick dropped closer when her nails dug into his arms, and he smothered her carefully, slowing to deep, deliberate thrusts when she sobbed and clenched beneath him, her body a frenzy of pent up sensations and emotions finally flooding over her. 

_Put another baby in her- fuck her until she’s carrying your baby again._

_What the fuck?_

She held his face as he quietly approached his release, confessing his undying love to her before pulling out and burying his face against her shoulder to hide his confusion at his own thoughts, his load dripping across her bare stomach in spasmodic bursts. He grunted until he was spent, hovering over her, and looking up to kiss her cheek. If he hadn’t emptied across her stomach, he would’ve collapsed, lulled completely by her touch across his face and the soft thank yous she kissed into his lips.

But she looked so relaxed again. Her hand movements held no remnants of tension, her face no longer holding the strain of built stress. 

“You look better,” he whispered, sliding his palm clumsily across her forehead to move her hair. She chuckled; _so beautiful._

“I feel better,” she breathed. 

At last he sat up, her knees over his thighs as he reached for a sheet they could discard. 

What was once serene was now guilt as he watched her wipe away his mess from her bruised belly, rolling the sheet before tossing it near the biohazard bin. 

The silence was nothing awkward of the sort as he helped her slip her panties back on when her casted arm started to ache, but he was sure she knew something troubled him by the way he remained perched at the end of her bed, looking over her partially bared form. 

Callie bent her arms behind her head, tapping the side of her foot against his thigh so he’d look at her. 

“Did I pressure you?” she croaked, but he shook his head insistently. 

“No, baby, I’m just- I don’t know,” he exhaled, moving onto his knuckles to lay beside her. 

At first, they laid shoulder to shoulder, his hand pulled back over her stomach as she smoothed her palm against his, but eventually she inclined to sit on an elbow over him. 

“You can go home if you need to rest,” 

“No, hell no- I’m fine,” he insisted. But something felt… off. A held suspense was lurking in his bones, something warm like a fever that he couldn’t quite shake. 

“No pain?” 

He shook his head. “Little bit here and there in the ribs, but I’m nearly back to normal,” he assured, twisting his index finger in her short curls. They looked at one another past the dark of the room, her eyes struggling to read him. 

“Talk to me,” she said softly. 

Nick thought, and tried to form what he felt, but conjuring the right words only made him feel like he would say something stupid. The longer he stared into that bloodshot eye and canvassed the bruising that only deepened by day made the unrest worse. He couldn’t sort his own shit- what the fuck was going on with his head?

“I’m just sorry,” 

Her brows furrowed, her head cocking. 

“I should never have left that day- I should’ve taken you with me,” 

“You didn’t know it would happen,” she told him. 

“But I knew something could happen,”

“Something happened to you, too, and a lot worse. I’m not the only victim here,” she said sternly, her voice above a whisper. 

Nick swallowed. “We weren’t the only ones,” 

Callie sighed, laying her cheek on his chest. 

_You did it- you said something stupid, you fucking-_

“Do you think it would’ve been a girl or boy?” She asked, and although his mind was plagued with conflict, the what-if was as brilliant as the rain after a week of drought. “What if it would’ve been twins?” He snorted, covering his face. “Could you imagine?” 

“I mean, a pair now means we wouldn’t have to try for another,” he reasoned. 

“I want a big family,” she whispered, looking back at him again. He grinned, but it was momentary. What had once been hope was suddenly realization dawning on her. This happened often; they’d become carried away, speaking of preferences and names, and forget that not only did she just have a miscarriage, but that conceiving was still near impossible. They’d had unprotected sex for close to 9 months, and just now did this happen. Who says they’d be so lucky again? 

The tears pooled in her eyes, and he held her cheeks, her brows starting to pull together. 

“Baby,” he intoned, his thumb swiping away the quick tears slipping down her cheeks. 

“He took my baby away,” she wept, pressing her face into his palm, and more tears spilled over despite her eyes pinching shut. “That was my only chance.”

She was cradled in his arms in a flash, just as hoarse sobs rocked her delicate form, her face buried under his chin. 

He had to refrain from squeezing her when anger broke through the film of empathy in his heart. The ferocity coming off of him must’ve been palpable, for she hushed him gently despite still crying, bringing a hand to her lips for soft kisses, and even softer words of comfort. 

God- why did he suck at this so much? Why couldn’t he offer the same comfort she did? All he could do was hold her, and rock her, and promise things would get better, but those promises were empty as long as he was running wild. 

His strong arms tightened, and she became part of him, slowly calming under his touch until sleep pulled over her like a blanket. 

Nick was left awake, alone with his thoughts, and the madness that encouraged him to swing and scream, and tear all of LA apart until he found the fucker who had infested their lives. He had only been back to his house once for their clothes, but seeing the destroyed door and turned furniture, and the spot she’d been assaulted… 

Callie grunted and wiggled, and he lessened the strong hold he hadn’t realized he’d surrounded her with. 

A few deep breaths, and forcing the stiffness in his neck and shoulders to relax helped pull him from that dark frame of mind, but even if he managed to sleep, he expected the nightmares to jostle him soon enough. 

His eyes trained to the door, watching the occasional set of feet move by. Nurses working the night shift, sometimes a patient scuffling along, surely an Orc that was probably restless. 

It was safest here, but all he wanted was for them to be home. He wanted to be in familiar walls, where he knew the exits and entrances and knew where he could get to his gun. 

With a final wiggle deeper into the sterile bedding, he closed his eyes, hopeful that her presence would be enough to keep his own rampant thoughts at bay.

* * *

“Ow.” Callie winced, shuddering when the catheter slipped from her hand and the last of the tape pulled from her skin. 

“All done.” the nurse chimed, properly disposing of the used items after taping the gauze over the small puncture wound. Callie shook her hand, pleased to have her hand back and not hook the taped IV on everything. There’d be a bruise on the back of her hand soon enough. 

“Just yank it out next time,” Nick grumbled from behind her, his arms crossed and knee bouncing erratically. 

Callie turned and glared, her brows arching in question. He motioned impatiently to the woman still picking up her station, but Callie waved him off, rolling her eyes. 

“Have you gotten your discharge paperwork yet?” the nurse asked.

“No, I’m still waiting,”

“Well you can start packing up now so when they bring it in your can take off, hun.” she smiled kindly, avoiding any eye contact with Nick before leaving. Callie spun, and Nick’s knee stilled. 

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?” she hissed. 

“She didn’t know what the fuck she was doing!” He exclaimed, standing to look over the aggravated skin of her hand. “Got another thing to worry about now,” 

“Some people are better at it then others,” she reasoned, pulling her hand back and looking up at him, a little more light in her eyes than before. 

He shrugged, still a little annoyed. “Ready to go home?”

“Hell yeah,” she exhaled, standing to dig through her bag to change. “I’m so over hospital food,”

“And nurses coming in every 10 minutes,” he grumbled, almost impatiently. 

“Eager for some alone time again?” Callie intoned, peaking over her shoulder. There was something feral about the way Nick looked at her; like he was famished, and she was his main course. He looked like he wanted to eat her alive, or maybe judging by the way he scented her when her excitement grew and his own reaction became evident under his sweats, a different kind of eating…

“Nick-”

Soft knocks at the door, and Nick rushed to the bathroom, closing it quietly behind himself as he heard the door open. 

“Oh hey,” Callie chimed, relieved when Rosie and Santiago walked in with reserved smiles. Her mouth had opened to question their strange behavior when Patricia walked in after them, side stepping awkwardly like a mannequin being placed in a room. 

Callie retracted, her mouth tightening into a straight line.

“Oh, hey,” she said quieter, stepping back to where she had started. 

The discomfort was evident on Rosie and Santi’s face as they struggled to situate themselves amongst the sparse furniture, Trish following suit, but perched on the edge of the bedside table. 

“How’s it going?” Santi cut through the cold glares. “Where’s your boy?”

“Bathroom. I’m doing fine, getting ready to go home,” Callie answered, returning to looking for clothes. 

“Did you decide to stay at-” Patricia tried asking. 

“No, I’m going home,” Callie snapped, and Nick came out, a little awkwardly at that. 

“Hey guys,” he said to them all, even Trish, but couldn’t withhold narrowing his eyes at her. He thought he’d be able to keep better restraint over his expressions when he saw her- that was one of the things they trained for to be a cop, but the gravity of her words, and Callie’s condition only made him livid. 

“Goin’ back to work soon, homie?” Rosie asked, lifting some of the stress. 

“Couple weeks,” 

“Don’t even look like you were ever roughed up,” Santi commented, nodding as Nick did. 

“Yeah, just a few scars left behind,” Nick mumbled, rubbing the top of his head. Callie patted his side and gave him a sly wink, in turn struggling to do much with her casted hand starting to ache considerably. 

“C’mere, gimmee that,” Rosie stood quickly to help fold her clothes. 

“Can I help-” Patricia spoke up too. 

“No,” Callie snapped, cringing past discomfort if it meant keeping her sister away. Nick thought it better to make himself busy elsewhere. Rosie’s surprised brows almost made him chuckle, though. 

A stiff silence filled the small room, and Nick could clearly read all over Santi how desperately he wanted to melt into the wall and leave the conflict of his sisters. 

Patricia was fidgeting, much like Callie did; bouncing knee, biting lip, but her hands slid around each other nervously. 

“I’m sorry, Cal,” Patricia exhaled. 

“Fuck you,” Callie cracked, throwing her shirt down. Rosie’s hands retracted, and she stood awkwardly at the opposite side of the bed, her hands on her hips and shaking her head almost unnoticeably at Nick who worded ‘should we stop them’?

“I know what I said-”

“Save it- just fucking save it cause your apologies don’t mean shit, Trish. You have this wonderful fuckin’ habit of lashing out at people because they don’t do what you’d do and then you think a few sorry’s and a girls day can fix everything when it doesn’t, so don’t bother with the excuses,”

“I’m not making excuses-” Trish pleaded. 

“Bullshit, you’re gonna cry about how stressed you are and how you only want what’s best for us-”

“That’s not what I was gonna say!” she implored. 

“Or you’re gonna go on about ‘being able to see things from an outsider's perspective’,” Callie scoffed, moving towards the end table beside Nick. “Should’ve known you’d come after me. You did it to Rosie when Daryl came around so I should’ve known you’d find something to rage over when mom and dad liked Nick,” Callie went on, her demeanor otherwise calm compared to a flushed Trish. 

“I just didn’t want you to end up a single mother like me-”

“I didn’t! It’s gone. I fuckin’ lost it, but even then, there was nothing pointing to me ending up like you just cause you got a weird feeling! From this point on, I don’t wanna fucking hear anything from you, even if I ever get pregnant again cause I’m so fucking over your shit, so **fuck off**!” 

Santiago and Patricia both held the same expressions; complete disbelief, but Trish had stepped forward, her eyes wide with sympathy. 

“You were pregnant?” she rasped. 

Callie rolled her eyes. “Just caught that, huh?”

“Oh my god- Calista-”

“No, no no stop, just- just fucking leave, please? I wanna go home, so just fucking… leave me alone,” she pleaded, holding the heel of her palm against her forehead. Her bottom lip was trembling; Nick instinctively stepped into her space, his hand smoothing the back of her head. 

“We’re leaving,” Rosie sighed, walking around the bed to hug her younger sister and hold her flushed cheeks. “Be safe, and rest okay?” she asked, Callie’s eyes filling with tears as her sister kissed her cheek and patted Nick’s arm before moving away. 

“Let’s go.” Rosie told Trish, waiting for her to stiffly step away, yet giving Callie one final, pleading glance, but only received unbridled fury. “Let’s _go_.” Rosie said again. Finally, the eldest left with a last ditch effort of a glance at Nick, but he was unmoving in every sense. Santi stood from his chair, but reached to shake Nick’s hand, his palm placed over them thoughtfully. 

“Better luck next time.” he mumbled, leaning to give Callie a chaste hug before following his sisters out, surely to be caught in the middle of more arguing on that car ride home. 

“Calm down,” Nick hushed gently, kissing her cheek with his arms wound around her waist, bearing her weight she suddenly felt too weak to keep upright. With a turn, she was pressed against him, her face between her shoulder and his broad chest, sniffling, but already calming the longer she stood with him shielding her. 

“That sucked,” she blubbered, and groaned when he rubbed her back. “This sucks,”

“It does,” he agreed, sadly, resting his lips against her hair. “Let’s go home where it doesn’t suck, though.” 

Callie nodded and unwound from him reluctantly just as a discharge nurse came in to hand over the last of her paperwork and at home instructions, along with her next appointment reminder. 

Nick layered her thoroughly; if there was one thing he learned about recovering from a beating, it was that the cold made it hurt more. He even pulled his beanie down over her head, grinning at the way her short curls twisted out from under it. 

She held steady to his arm in lieu of sitting in a wheelchair, but it felt good to wobble farther than the length of her own room. 

“Are these all Fogteeth?” she whispered, and he nodded. 

“Been here since you got here,” he murmured, putting her on his other side as a few followed them onto the elevators alongside other staff of the hospital. The more that piled in, the more agitated Nick became. He could hear them scenting the air, detailing how available Callie was even if she’d just miscarried. Even if that was a norm in Orc culture, he didn’t like it. If she were with any other, they would’ve tried for another baby already; no wasting time in Orc households. 

He moved his arm around her waist when one stepped behind them; one that was particularly bigger than Nick, with tusks that curled impressively, and he was most likely canvassing her from behind. 

Since they’d woke that morning, Nick had had trouble restraining himself. Soon she’d start her period- he could smell it, which meant soon she’d be fertile again. The most alluring scent to anything non-human, including him. A deep, quaking yearn in his gut fought to stick another baby in her, but that also meant others were going to be feeling the same urge. 

Like this one behind them that just took half a step closer. 

The snarl from behind Nick’s bared teeth was immediate and involuntary, and startled the nurses greatly more than it simply confused Callie. 

The Orc stepped back, glowering back at Nick. For a solid minute he thought fists would start swinging, with every second passed they fought with their eyes, but Nick’s seniority must’ve been enough to back him off. 

“What’s wrong?” Callie whispered, patting his chest. He only chuffed, holding tighter around her waist as they waited their turn to exit the elevator after the humans rushed off, questioning under their breath to one another. 

Nick pulled her out carefully, a departing glare to all of them. He was grateful for the rush of cold air when the sliding doors opening to the rainy weather outside, cooling the overwhelming heat he felt coming off him like steam. 

_What the fuck_ , he thought to himself, letting out a deep breath. 

“Nick,” Callie called to him, and he looked down, finding her perplexed. 

“What?”

“I’ve been saying your name for like a minute,” she told him, observing the confused state of his expression. “Lost up there?”

“I guess,” he exhaled. They made it to Matuk, who was again sitting at the bench beside the pick-up zone, looking up at Callie with bright eyes as she made it over to him. He rose in time for her hug, carefully squeezing her. Nick withheld another growl, opting to turn away. 

_The fuck is your problem?!_

“How’re you feeling?” Matuk asked. “We both have fucked up arms,”

“I’m good, just tired a lot,” she grinned, stepping back to bump against Nick’s side, but he still didn’t turn around. “Did you manage to go home?”

“Here and there, but I’m okay,” 

“You shouldn’t be out here looking like that,” 

Matuk shrugged, awkwardly because of his sling. “Lala brings me food and company sometimes,”

Callie smiled, but winced when her split lip stung. “Ouch,”

Nick spun, looking down at her lip that had started to bleed again slightly. 

“Shouldn’t be getting her worked up,” Nick snapped, and Callie looked at him with arched brows, holding a tissue against her mouth. 

But upon looking back at Matuk, he was only suppressing a grin, his eyes squinted in humor as he looked elsewhere. “Yeah, sorry,”

“C’mon, truck isn’t parked that far,” Nick motioned. 

“Yeah sure… see you soon?” she asked the younger Orc, who nodded and sat back down. 

“Good luck recovering.” he said loud enough just for her to catch, and she shot him a questioning look over Nick’s arm around her shoulders. 

It started to occur to Callie that everyone had been acting differently that morning and Nick was the one who seemed the most off. His hold around her was more protective than loving, his body stiff and composure alert. Worry started to seep into her bones; was he returning to old habits? 

An arm looped around his waist did some to lessen the grip about her, and he seemed to calm the closer they came to his truck, but she could still sense something was wrong in his head. Probably due to their overall predicament, so she shoved it aside. She couldn’t blame him for being on higher alert. 

“We’re going back to your place, right?”

Nick shrugged. “I dunno,” he effortlessly scooped her up bridal style to place her in the passenger seat, even when she protested. “Maybe it’d be better to stay at your place,”

“You think?” she asked, watching him move around the back of the truck. Nervously, she fidgeted, her line of sight jumping until he was sitting beside her and grunting. “Your ribs hurt?”

“Barely, more uncomfortable than anything,” he turned the engine over. “So how about it? Mine or yours?”

She pursed her lips. “More people around my place might make is less likely for them to come around again,” 

“Closer to the hospital, too. You have an appointment coming up.” 

She nodded. “Need to get our stuff though.”

↠

“Nick, I don’t need to be carried,” she giggled, patting his chest when he lifted her from the car again. 

“Can’t be too careful,” he sighed as he set her down, offering an elbow again as they walked to his front door. The locks had been replaced, but the door still needed repainting, and he felt her resist at his side when he unlocked the door. 

Nick could tell that Ward had tried spraying air freshener or lighting candles to cover the smell, but blood stained carpet like it did senses, which was why there was new rolls beside the moved furniture. An attempt had been made to lift the dark stains, but even if they’d pulled up some, the scent would remain. His table was gone and sat outside in shattered pieces, and destroyed picture frames were set upon the bar to his kitchen. 

As Callie walked through the living room slowly, she tried to avoid looking down the hallway, but her bruised eyes lingered, and her body started to unsteady. She was standing right beside one of the stains, but Nick didn’t know if she noticed, her hands too busy cracking her knuckles to do anything else but stand and panic. 

“Go sit down, I’ll get our stuff,” he kissed into her hair, turning her towards the couch. It was languid, but she nodded, blinking her life back into perspective before shuffling towards the sofa. 

He threw it all into bags, worried more about keeping her longer than necessary. It occurred to him that he might never be able to bring her into his home again, and the thought troubled him, but if he could be at her home and make sure she recovered without any additional trauma, he wouldn’t complain. 

Fuck, he’d sell his house if it came to that. 

The bedroom was walked through once more, grabbing another sweater to stuff into the bag before moving to the bathroom and tossing more essentials in. He was just about to make it down the hallway when he stopped short, and returned to his room. 

He pulled his Glock and badge from the bedside table, and reached high into the closet for the extra clip, but kept the gun in his waistband. Nick was honorable through and through, but at this point, if he saw so much as a glimpse of Gerrald, he wouldn’t resist shooting. 

“All set, let’s go-”

She was hunched over, her arms beneath her chest and heaving into her palms, her shoulders shaking. 

The bags were dropped and she was cradled against him faster than the snap of a whip. It was difficult to unwind her, but he managed to loosen her enough so he could hold her face, and keep enough eye contact to ask her to mimic his breathing and slowly, slowly bring her down from the panic she was being thrown from. 

“Breathe with me, baby,” he said softly, moving her hair from her damp face. “We’ll go home and change so you can rest, and we’ll worry about everything else tomorrow, okay? Let’s get going so you can get comfortable,”

“I wanna stay,” she spoke huskily, her eyes cracking open. Even redder than before, now. 

“We shouldn’t, you said so yourself,”

Her face soured, and he held her cheek. “I’m scared,” she hiccuped. He sighed and pulled her into an embrace, smoothing the back of her head as she wept quietly against him. “It feels safer here,”

“You’re safe wherever I’m with you,” he declared. “Even at your place,”

“Even here then, too,” she countered, a smallest of a grin making him chuckle. 

Nick was still resistant, evident by the sideways purse of his lips. “Please?” she asked. “If it happens again, I’ll go home and not complain,”

“That’s not bothering me-”

“I think it was just the initial shock-”

“Calista,” he stopped her, holding her head. “Stop. Don’t drag yourself like that,” he told her sternly, ready to squash anymore of it. “We can stay, but the minute you can’t function, we’re leaving,”

“Thank you,” she exhaled, her eyes falling shut in relief before giving him a quick peck. 

He wiped her cheeks before he gave her another sweet kiss, followed by a small hum from her. Callie still sniffled, but her hands found their way over his, holding him there as she leaned in for another. 

Kissing Nick was like Dilaudid lulling you into calmness; his caresses had a way of keeping her suspended in a dream like state where only he existed and her issues didn’t rain so dominantly over her life. So, of course, she followed his mouth when he leaned back, her hands sliding from his and up his chest, fingers curling into his hoodie. 

“Not again,” he groaned, powerless when her hot tongue slid into his mouth, eliciting a low groan. 

“I know I said I wouldn’t ask again,” she paused to brush her lips against his, “But it’s a good distraction,” 

He traced his sharp teeth across her jaw, biting gently down the length of her neck as her head fell back into the crook of his elbow. “You shouldn’t anymore,” he groused, grasping her thigh forcefully. 

“You want to,” she moaned, her thighs parting and his hand dragging to her lower stomach. “I know you do,”

“Of course I do,” he whined, slipping under her layers to hold her waist, her hot skin provoking the fire he felt consuming his rational thoughts. “Of course I fucking do,” he growled, pulling her flush against him, his hand sliding under the bra strap across her back. 

Callie moaned, and he lost most of his control. 

Like she was weightless, he pushed her aside, onto the cushions of the couch, looming over her. 

“Open up, baby,” he breathed, leaning into her welcoming hands and his hips rutting tight against her once her thighs had parted. He kissed her without reservation, conscious enough to remember the tender state of her face and body as he ravished her and started to strip piece by piece off of her. 

He worshipped every part that was uncovered, starting with kisses along the inside of her knees once he’d peeled her tights off and ending with loving licks across her bare breasts, trembling with gasps as he fondled her delicately. 

Nick groaned when he licked down her stomach. “I can smell how wet you are,” he whined, puffing against her skin. 

_Fuck her until she screams-_

“I want you inside me,” she breathed, her hips raising just as he skipped back up her body, his eyes pinched shut and face pressed against her neck. 

_What the fuck is wrong with me-_

_Bite her- mark her, make her yours forever._

He chuffed, continually, as she slipped her hands under the waistband of his sweats, pulling long strokes down his hard member that swelled painfully. 

“Put it in me,” she begged, her neck craned to catch his mouth as he hovered over her. 

“Fuck, Callie,” he exhaled hard, his hips pumping into her hold. 

He was taking long inhales of her arousal, his eyes flickering between her working hands and naked sex under him, so close, yet so far. 

_Slide in._

Heat enveloped him, and he felt light-headed. He moved her hands above her head, pinning them down by her elbows as his hips dipped and he pushed his way inside her, relishing in the way she sobbed beneath him in thanks. 

Nick’s eyes fell closed, and he let himself become immersed in her sweet, soaked center, stroking every inch of him, enveloping him entirely. 

_Fuck her. Until, she, screams._

The sudden change in speed made her gasp, her eyes flying to his, but she didn’t ask him to stop. Her face tightened, but her knees instinctively rose closer to her chest, her mouth hung in breathless moans. 

He kept hold of her arms as he lowered onto his elbows, his cheek pushing hers aside to bite harder than normal under her jaw. 

She cried out, but ended with a snarl of her own, her legs locking against his lower back. 

“Nick- oh my fucking god, I can’t-” she tried forming, but let herself fall apart, mumbling incoherently. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he hissed, his face against her cheek, his voice wavering in time with his rapid thrusts. “You’re so fucking good,”

_Make this pussy yours forever. Taste her blood and stick another baby in her-_

_**What the fuck!?**_

Nick reared up, yanking her hips up to slap against his, his head leaned back and eyes closed. 

If he kept breathing in her skin, he would bite her. Something inside him was stretching across his limbs, heating his belly with an unmatched desire he’d never experienced before. Everything about him was on fire- his skin, his thoughts, but the overwhelming need to sink his teeth into her skin and taste her blood scared him. 

She’s your mate- she’s your woman. Mark her, keep her. 

“Oh fuck,” he snarled, landing back on his hands, her touch winding up his rigid arms and to his shoulders. 

“I’m close- I’m so close,” she panted, and sang when he shoved his hands under her knees and pushed them to her chest, firing into her. 

_Fill her up. Make her known to be yours- nobody else's. Fuck her and fill her with a baby so no one can touch her._

“There there there- fuck fuck fuck!” she hollered, her face pressed into her own arm beside her head, gripping his couch as her orgasm cascaded over her, pushing her spine into a stiff arch and her eyes back into her head. 

Her walls pulsated around him and Nick bit into his own cheek when his head landed in the crook of her neck, pulling from her in time to explode across her slick sex. He growled lowly as his tip pushed between her coated lips, mixing their juices and stroking her sensitive clit. 

The taste of his own blood brought him back eventually, and he looked up at her, his brows furrowing as hers did. 

“Nick- oh my god, are you okay?” she asked, blood pooling from his parted lips as he struggled to catch his breath. “Holy shit,” 

Bloody saliva dripped onto her chest as he leaned back, but she sat up, her hands following his face. 

“What happened?” she asked, struggling to sit up, her body weakened by such a climax. 

“Bit myself,” he slurred, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He could feel the deep bite with his tongue, and couldn’t fathom how she would’ve reacted if he’d bit into her like that. “Got too excited, I guess,”

“I’ll get you some tissue,”

“No, go clean up- you’re covered in my blood and…” he chuckled, turning her by the hips away from him. His semen was already leaking down the inside of her thighs, not to mention the heavy droplets of blood trailing down her chest. 

“Are you sure?” she asked, backing up slowly. 

He nodded, putting on his best smile with blood smeared across his face. 

It wasn’t until he heard his bathroom door shut did he bury his face in his palms, taking deep breaths. Fifteen seconds since they’d fucked and he was already getting hard again just from seeing her coated in his blood and semen. Even his own blood? It appeared to be the next best thing to knocking her up, it seemed. 

_You need to get your shit together, Nick._

He swallowed more blood, standing to walk to his kitchen to clean himself. 

His mouth was really gushing, even after he swished water in his mouth and spat a few times. The deep bite stung something awful when he stuck a finger between his jaws, and he groaned, half relieved that he hadn’t sunk his fangs into Callie, but also bummed that this would most likely cause him quite some trouble in the coming days. 

“How’re you doing?” Callie asked, emerging from her room with one of his sleeveless shirts over her frame. Toned legs were still bare, and when she turned, he could see the side of her breasts. 

_She looks naked without your mark._

Before he let his raging thoughts dictate his actions again, he splashed cold water over his face, leaning onto his elbows over the sink. It stopped that same rush of warmth from firing over his skin, but his head still felt lighter, yet focused entirely on Callie as she walked towards him. He didn’t lift his face from behind his fists until she was beside him with a hand on his back, and even then, he wasn’t sure he could control himself. 

“Bite bugging you?” she asked with utter concern in her voice, but he chose to nod. 

“Hurts,” he cleared his throat, cupping water into his mouth again and spitting. 

“What got you so worked up?”

Nick shrugged, lowering his gaze as his head dropped down against the knuckles of his thumbs. His line of sight followed the sculptured curve of her legs upwards from her feet, landing on her flat stomach she’d tied the shirt snugger around with a hair tie. 

“You’re starting your period soon,” he half lied, looking at her from the corner of his eye. 

“Mm,” she nodded, patting his back again and turning away in time to skip out on the hard-on he was building again. “Maybe we should hold off for a while before you bite your tongue off.”

He chuffed, licking his lips with bloodied tongue as she went about gathering their clothes. 

More water over his face when she bent over. 

“Yeah, maybe.”

* * *

If he tried hard enough, he could solely concentrate on her face while she spoke, and force himself to look elsewhere when his eyes lead his mind on a journey down her body.

But everyday she grew closer to her period, the more delicious she smelled. 

If he had to get up and walk out into the cold night to stop from bending her before him, he’d take deep inhales against her stomach or thighs, holding his breath until that smack of frigid air knocked it from him. By then, the rampaging yearn to fuck her was chased away, ready to lie in wait for it’s next opportunity to pounce. 

It didn’t help that she loved to sleep in nothing but underwear and that she seldom wore bras, even in public, or that she was always throwing suggestive glances his way. 

It also didn’t help having Orcs around them 24/7. 

He couldn’t tell her that when one of the males from the Fogteeth were being nicer than usual, it was because they were analyzing her. That when they suddenly stood taller, it was because they were waiting for her to choose the biggest bull. 

There was Nick- big, broad, but smaller compared to other Orcs, and without tusks to show proudly. 

But there was her undying loyalty, and the way she held his arm confidently in public and moved his arms around her ribs when they stood chest to back while waiting in line somewhere. There was also the way she whispered to him, asking him to put his hands on her with an impish grin. It was how her body reacted to the slightest brush of his fingers across the back of her neck, or a quick kiss to her jaw. 

Yet where there was desire, now came an unquenchable appetite. He could roar with how impulsive it made him, but there was a greater need to silence it. 

Callie still had a recovery ahead of her, and no matter how badly his body fought to impregnate her again, he wouldn’t burden her with such a thing so soon. 

So he stared at the setting sun with stinging eyes while they stood on the pier, drawing his mind from it’s newest corner, even with his arms around her. 

He still kissed her knuckles when they sat in the waiting room of her follow-up appointment, but clenched the arm rest with his other hand, his fingertips aching incredibly. 

And while they sat across his couch, watching Netflix with her legs in his lap and her arms crossed behind her head, he’d let himself gaze upon her nipples showing through the camisole she wore, but would bite into his healing mouth when his fingers would start to drum against her knee in anticipation. 

The three days that passed felt like weeks. Nearly every minute of everyday had been tactful. 

Not to throw her beneath him and make sure no one laid with her again, or holler at other Orcs there when they stood just a few feet too close. They started groaning and rolling their eyes every time Nick came from his house to ask for updates, yet some would… snicker. 

Especially when Callie made a move bolder than normal around them and they saw how much he struggled to keep his composure. 

It pissed him off. More so that they clearly saw him battling himself and thought it humorous.

If he could find the quick moment alone with them, he’d hiss in Orkish under his breath, silencing them only temporarily. But how long was temporary? How long before he had control of his mind back from this unknown force?

↠

“You should just come with me,” he grumbled, pulling his shirt down over his nearly healed body. 

“I’ve had my share of hospitals for at least another year, thank you,” she grinned, leaning against the doorway to his room with a mug of Orkish tea curled against her chest. 

“What if-”

“You said so yourself,” she said from behind the lip of the cup, earning a worried glance. “There’s more Orcs around now,”

“What if he brings more people with him the second time around?”

“Baby,” she sighed, and he looked at her once he’d finished pulling on his Nike’s. “You’ll be back in 30 minutes,”

“So come with me if it’s so quick!” he begged, holding her sides and pulling her closer. 

“I’m tired though,” she groaned, leaning against him with her mug off to the side. She placed a soft peck on his jaw and another on his lips when he looked down at her. “I’m gonna nap while you’re gone,”

He only whined lowly, his arms around her tight as his reluctance grew, but his mouth wandered down her neck. Her legs already felt weak, and she blindly stuck her arm out to find the edge of his dresser, suspecting that the mug actually hung precariously off it’s ledge when she placed it there. 

“Are you actually gonna fuck me this time?” she breathed, holding his face to kiss him forcefully.

“Can’t,” he paused to taste her tongue. “Have to go,”

That was a lie. He could’ve thrown her back and fucked her until she went blind, but he didn’t trust himself to be careful with her when he was already shaking with restraint. 

“Nick, come on,” she moaned, her arms snaking around his neck, pulling herself up to attempt wrapping her legs around him. 

Before either of them looked at his ringing phone, they both knew it was Ward; it was _always_ Ward. 

“Gotta go,” he kissed against her mouth, carefully unwinding from her hold to leave her disheveled and irritated. 

“Nick Aleksei Jakoby!” she snapped, following him out, but he only pecked her cheek again at the door and walked out. If he’d faced her, and the way her shirt was hiked up her front with her hair in her face, he would’ve collapsed and given in. It had to be like this- he had to sort his shit first. 

His knee always acted up when he walked this briskly, but he was purposely rushing to avoid the Fogteeth around too. He could already hear their laughter. 

 

“What’s good, Jakoby?” Ward asked, waiting patiently in his sedan. 

“Same old,” Nick grunted, sitting in the cramped passenger seat. 

“No cane today?”

Nick side-eyed him. “Haven’t needed it in weeks,”

“Don’t look so old anymore,” Ward grinned, pulling onto the street. 

“Can’t say the same about you.” The Orc shifted, hesitant to look at his partner again, but couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Daryl glared at him. 

“Someone’s gonna take another swing at you if you keep it up.” Ward teased. 

 

It took a great deal of coordination, but Callie finally managed to make it out onto the porch with two mugs in hand, scanning the multitude of cars parked on the street until she found the fire engine red Ranger with the California lift at the farthest end. 

A female Orc peaked over at her and Callie raised her mug, shuffling over to the small patio set to sit before the same graceful, tall, lean woman joined Callie, pushing her sunglasses up over her head wrap. 

“How you doin’, lambchop?” Morn asked, leaning over for a quick half-peck on Callie’s cheek before grabbing the extra mug with an appreciative smile. 

“Sore, restless,” Callie sighed, also putting her feet up when Morn did, her burgundy Doc Martins thunking loudly against the wooden railing. “Aren’t you cold in that fishnet?”

Morn looked down at her legs, shrugging in her denim vest covered in patches. “Warm blooded,”

“Hm,” Callie nodded, sipping her tea. “Any updates?”

“I wish. Those bastards fell off the face of the Earth,” Morn mumbled, her chin rested in her palm as her brilliant eyes watched Callie sigh and shift. “Haven’t seen you outside in a while,”

“Nick’s paranoid. Going out made him too nervous,”

“Even out front?”

Callie nodded. 

“How’d you manage to get him to leave without you?” she laughed, her long tusks adding ferocity to her fanged smile. 

“Tried to jump his bones,” she murmured into her cup, still a little deflated from it. “I don’t think he likes looking at my face like this…”

“That’s not it, babycakes,” Morn giggled, settling deeper into her chair. 

“What?”

Morn looked at Callie, and sat forward with a grunt. “Has he been really fidgety lately?”

Callie blinked, and nodded. 

“Moody?”

She nodded again. 

Her dark, patterned hand rested over Callie’s and her leg started to bounce nervously. 

_Is he gonna break up with me again?_

“He’s in heat,”

Her mouth opened, but then closed. “Heat… what?”

“You boy is hot to trot, but now ten times stronger and fueled by instinct,” Morn sat back again, flicking her sunglasses down as she kept vigilant surveillance over the house. 

“Male Orcs go into heat?” Callie exclaimed. “He’s never done this before,”

“Probably never been around so many other big bros like this. It’s probably happened when he was younger, just different severities since you were… pregnant, and all…”

Callie pursed her lips, piecing it all together. “So he wants to fuck?”

Morn nodded. 

“Then why doesn’t he?! He’s been avoiding me like i have the plague!”

“Cause you’re human, lambchop, he doesn’t wanna break you,” she snorted. “You haven’t been fucked until you fuck an Orc in heat- look,” she finished, quickly placing her mug down to move the back of her headwrap aside and shimmy her vest down her shoulders enough to display the deep bite marks covering the back of her neck. But it wasn’t just there- it was the scars covering her arms and shoulder blades, and some even on her throat. 

“Oh my God-”

“Before you start,” Morn started, hushing a distraught Callie. “It was my husband. It wasn’t out of anger or anything, just exactly what munguz is going through,”

“So… they- they bite instead of fuck?” Callie stuttered, and Morn laughed out loud. 

“It’s part of it, after they’ve kept you on the brink of stroking out during sex,” she chuckled, sipping more of her tea. 

“That intense?”

She nodded. “That good. It’s worth it, but expect blood. There’s _always_ blood,”

“And biting?” Callie asked, rubbing the fading one under her jaw. 

“That’s a nibble compared to what he can do,”

Was it strange that excitement stirred in Callie’s belly, and she bounced her heel thinking of the kinds of things Nick was capable of in such a state?

“You naughty bitch,” Morn grinned, winking and flicking her nose in acknowledgement when Callie looked at her, her cheeks turning a few shades redder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,”

“It’s kind of tempting,” Callie admitted, squeezing her thighs together when her legs crossed. “How bad does it hurt?”

She shrugged. “Their teeth are so sharp that you don’t feel it till their spit makes it sting, but Nick’s tusks are blunt so it might hurt more,”

“And the bite? Does it mean anything?”

“You're his. No other Orc will ever lay with you as long as you have a bite, but I can’t say the same about you humans the way you pass each other around…” she mumbled, winking again. Callie halfheartedly smacked her arm. “I’ll tell the others not to interrupt if we hear screams later tonight,”

“What if he’s ripping my throat out?”

“You’ll enjoy it even then, trust me.” 

Callie kneaded her lower lip, avoiding the scabbed cut, and staring forward. What started as worry now ended in determination, and the smallest hint of hesitation. To think that Nick, who was already surprisingly talented in bed after a lonely life, had the potential to be even greater was almost daunting, but it was alluring. 

She’d promised she wouldn’t beg him for sex until her next period… but she’d already broken that promise. 

_One more time wouldn’t hurt, right?_

“You should head back inside,” Morn finished the last of her cup. “We’re gonna switch shifts here in a couple minutes,”

Callie rose, gathering both mugs again. Morn was mindful of her bruised cheek when she pressed her own against Callie’s during a quick hug, but stopped to hold her shoulders. 

“Am I gonna find you dead in the morning?”

Callie snorted. “I’m tougher than I look, y’know.”

With another pat to her face, the goddess like Orc skipped down the steps, seemingly weightless despite the heavy boots upon her feet and denim vest, her wallet chain bouncing against her thigh as she strolled across the yard. 

Callie struggled again to open the door with her casted hand, but successfully made it to his sink without a broken mug. 

She padded across the carpet to the bathroom, and looked at herself in the wide mirror, moving her fringe back to properly inspect the status of her healing face. She groaned, reaching to pull her T-shirt up, but wincing again at the sight of her bruised stomach and sides. Softly, she slid her palm across her flat belly, down below her belly button where if she were still pregnant, a swell would start to soon form. 

The shirt was dropped. It was still too much to take on in random bursts like that.

But a deep breath and her shoulders squared kicked her back up to where she’d been before: tempted as all hell to see Nick’s monstrous side. 

“Gotta love distractions.”

↠

She kicked the blanket off her legs when she heard his familiar footfalls approaching the front door and she settled in time for him to walk in, double checking everything was locked before relaxing his posture. 

“Hey baby,” he exhaled, leaning over the back of the couch to give her a quick kiss. She saw his eyes land on her legs; already working. 

“Everything go okay?” she asked, pulling her knees up when he circled the sofa. 

“Cleared to go back to work next week,” he told her, kicking his shoes off and pulling his hoodie off to leave him in his sweats and muscle shirt. 

“Feel good enough to go?” she asked, withholding a grin when he pulled her legs into his lap and unconsciously started rubbing them. 

“Dunno. I’ve come to like being a couch potato,” he frowned, squeezing her thigh before drumming his fingers against her elastic skin. 

_“Has he been fidgety lately?”_

She smirked. “A shut in is more like it,”

“Not my fault we’ve had a psycho after us,”

“Hey I never said it was mensito,” she scowled, her knee tilting to hit his chest. 

“I know- sorry,” he mumbled, patting her inner thigh. 

_“Moody?”_

“S’okay,” she whispered, ever so slightly opening her knees and adjusting her hips. Nick’s eyes flickered over and then met hers. 

A thick roll of goosebumps carried down her arms and legs when she caught his eyes dilating this time, his nostrils flaring as he scented her. The hand that was so gentle on her leg before was tightening, but Callie was the one to hook her knee over his so the blanket slid off, revealing the pair of royal blue panties he had bought for her long ago. He suspected that’s all she was wearing beneath the baggy sweatshirt, and his head fell back against the cushion, his eyes still locked with hers. 

There was no escaping it this time, and that thought alone didn’t scare him anymore. 

_Fuck her senseless._

Nick swallowed. _I want to._

“Tócame,” she breathed, her knee sliding up beside his pec. “Tócame todo,”

It looked like for a moment he would resist by the way his hands retracted, but Callie wouldn’t give up so easily. 

For a short while, she could forget they were under constant surveillance or that there was a fucking lunatic out for their blood- that both of their faces had been beaten in. She wanted to return to familiarity and that meant being with Nick in a way she’d been with no other. 

Fuck anyone who would try to disrupt that. 

Callie could be incredibly nimble, proven by the way she was sudden sat in his lap, wiggling her hips so there was no space left between them. 

He grunted when she tested the swollen member beneath her barely clothed pussy, wide hands holding her cinched waist as she held his face delicately. 

“I know what’s been wrong with you,” she breathed, angling his face up when he watched his hands circling the crease where her thighs met her hips. “I can fix it,”

“Nothin’s wrong,” he growled, graciously accepting her kisses, a deep rumble resounding in his chest. 

“You say that like you haven’t been avoiding fucking me,” she said outright, and his eyes faltered. 

“I haven’t-”

“You have,” she said against his jaw, blunt teeth scraping down his neck. He let out a high-pitched whine as he curled a hand behind her neck to pull her hair aside, placing wet kisses along her pulse. 

“We have to wait till-”

“You’re in heat,” she said, looking straight at him. “I’m starting my period soon and that’s why you’re acting skittish. That’s why you bit yourself,”

It took mere seconds for Nick to put everything together, and it was obvious. He’d gone through it in his 20’s- how could he fucking forget what it was like? Probably cause he’d never knocked anyone up before…

“So let me help,” she moaned into his ear, pulling her pussy slowly over his aching dick, her hips settling into a steady, gyrating motion that made his eyes pinch shut. Thick fingers dug into the silky smooth skin of her hips, and he looked down to marvel at the sight. 

“We can’t,” he said lowly, his last shred of decency hanging on. 

_Slide in._

“What do you wanna do though?” she asked, her mouth against his cheek as he tried looking away. “Tell me what you want,” 

_Say it, you fucking coward- she wants to hear you fucking say it._

He grabbed her jaw carefully, his thumb pulling down her bottom lip. 

“I wanna fuck you until you see double,”

She pulled her shirt off over her head, throwing it aside as his hands dragged up her slim sides, his thumbs pebbling her standing nipples while his palms pushed her tits together. “Keep moving,” he slurred against her chest. She held the back of his neck, whimpering when he bit down on the top of her breast harder than usual, but kissing the reddening flesh afterwards, his hands having dragged down her ribs roughly to pull her ass back and forth over his throbbing cock. 

It wasn’t long before he yanked her upwards by the shoulders high enough to tug her panties roughly down her thighs, nipping at her collarbones as she clumsily kicked them off her feet. But before she could sit, his hand cupped her damp sex, a finger pressing between her lips to find her slick clit. 

Callie moaned, her forehead against his as he dipped his middle fingers into her center the same time his tongue slid into her mouth. 

He knew to stroke upwards in a come-hither fashion, and knew she would tremble and sing above him, but he didn’t expect her to grind against his palm, his digits sliding in and out of her heat. 

“Fuck you’re perfect,” he gasped, watching with intensity as his girl danced above him, evoking the mightiest burn in his belly yet. 

_Say she’s yours-_

His fingers left her and he made quick work of pushing his sweats down his narrow hips, using his thumb to push his dick down to align with her entrance. 

_Make her scream it- make her scream your name-_

Four loud knocks on his door stopped them both and his head spun just as she had started to slide down him. But she was frozen now, her arms covering her chest and her eyes wide in panic. 

“Nick-”

He hushed her, moving her aside and pulling his hoodie down over her body before urging her to stay put. She questioned what he was doing when he reached under the couch, but instead held a hand over her mouth when he pulled his Glock out, cocking it before holding it steadily between his palms as he moved to the door. 

He crept up on the peephole, hesitantly looking through, but then exhaled angrily and unlocked the door with ferocity before swinging it open. 

“Munguz,” Dorghu nodded, looking at Callie when she stumbled to Nick’s side, but still kept behind his arm. A slight waft of the air let him in on everything he needed to know, as well as the Orc behind him. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,”

Callie flushed, but Nick glared. 

“What do you want?” Nick snapped, more vehemently than meant. 

“Not to shoot you again,” he joked with a straight face, and Callie’s eyes narrowed, her head cocking. 

“Excuse me?” she cracks. 

_“Don’t freak her out,”_ Nick grumbled in Orkish and Dorghu scoffed. 

_“Anything we talk about from here on out will likely do so,”_

_“Then don’t make remarks like that-”_

“Hey hey, English,” she demanded, the back of her hand hitting Nick’s chest. 

One of the Orcs chuffed quietly, and Nick’s chin raised, a louder one coming from him. Dorghu blocked their line of sight from one another. 

“We have business to attend,”

“Like?” Nick asked impatiently. 

“We found Gerrald,”

That halted Nick’s attitude and stopped Callie’s heart. She grabbed his arm for balance and he sidestepped, almost asking him to repeat what he’d said. 

“Where was he?” Callie asked, clearing her throat when her voice betrayed her. 

“Two Hands,”

Callie shuddered, holding her arms. “Creepy fucker,”

“Where’s he now?” Nick asked. 

_“At our warehouse, and I’m letting you decide what happens to him,”_ Dorghu answered, and Nick exhaled, leaning against the doorway. Callie eyed him. 

_“I’m a cop,”_

_“You’re also Fogteeth now. It didn’t stop him, so why should it stop you?”_ the scarred Orc asked, and Nick’s head retracted some, sighing heavily as his arms crossed, the gun still clenched in his fist. 

“Hello I’m still here, what’s going on?” Callie asked, but Nick’s eyes were trained on Dorghu, flipping his words over and over in his thoughts. For weeks he’d fantasized of curb stomping Gerrald, so why was he so apprehensive now? After he’d tried taking Callie? What could he have done to her if no one had intervened. 

His index finger tapped against the gun a few times before saying, “You’re staying here,”

“What-” Callie tried to ask, but Nick was already moving towards his room. “Where exactly are you running off to?”

“I’ll be back soon,” Nick said, already changing into jeans when she had followed him. 

“I’m not staying here,” she argued, brows arched in determination. 

“You can’t go with me.”

“Do you really think for one second I’d let you leave alone with the dude who shot you!?” she hissed, and he looked at her pleadingly, wishing for just this one time she wouldn’t fight him. He knew what would happen if she confronted him despite the anger he knew she held. Her panic would get the better of her. 

“There’s a lot more to that,” he chose to say, pulling his muscle shirt off. 

“Nick,” she ground out, on his heels as he walked to his closet. “Nick!”

“NO!” he snapped, spinning to face her. The bitterness was clear in her big eyes, but he held steadfast, fighting to keep this riled mask on. It worked; she stomped away from him and out of the room, and he heard the bathroom door slam. His hands dragged down his face, and after a moment of collecting himself, he yanked a jacket from a hanger and slipped his boots on. 

He approached the bathroom door, knocking gently. “Cal?” No answer. 

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Still no answer. He exhaled, unwillingly walking down his hall and to Dorghu who was still waiting at the door with a cigarette perched next to a tusk. 

They lead him to the sleek, black Cadillac still running on the street, and Nick couldn’t help but wonder if this was all an elaborate scheme just to get rid of him. But he was already opening the back door, and was met with Callie’s gaze sitting across the seat, her arms crossed and still in his pull-over. 

His jaw dropped. “How-”

“She’s sneaky,” Dorghu commented, setting himself in the passenger seat. Nick growled lowly and climbed in, slamming the door beside him. 

“Why couldn’t you just stay home?” he snapped. 

“Look what happened last time I wasn’t with you when I should’ve been.” she snapped back, her red eye and battered face rekindling a great guilt in his heart. Nick’s mouth closed and he leaned away from her against the door. That stung something fierce. 

For once it was his knee bouncing instead of hers, and he was silently surprised at her level of tranquility as they drove deeper and deeper into Orkish neighborhoods, but she still peered out the dark windows curiously, her mouth sometimes dropped open when they passed a soaring church or an outlet still bustling with Orcs. 

She leaned tentatively over by his window, but would retract when he looked at her. 

Humans seldom wandered into Orkish barrios like this. It wasn’t even because they thought Orc’s were violent from birth- it was the humans own assumptions. Rumors often spread of the occasional attack, but Orc’s suffering under the hands of police brutality and discrimination were never heard of. But in neighborhoods like this, where even the police seemed to avoid, violence rarely broke out. Their way of life was undisturbed and they liked it like that. 

It worried Nick bringing Callie in; he didn’t know how they’d react to her even if she was a sweetheart through and through, but the farther they moved from the busy streets, the more he calmed. 

The lights became dimmer and sparser, and soon they were winding through empty streets lined with dark buildings and Callie’s curiosity had gone. She nervously glanced out of the window every now and then, her hands fidgeting in her lap. 

Nick sighed and tugged on her shoulder, lifting his arm when she looked at him. 

She slid over under his arm, immediately calming pressed against his side. He looked her over, his brows furrowing. 

“You’re wearing pants, right?” he questioned under his breath, noting her bare legs, but she lifted his sweater enough to show her shorts beneath. 

He nodded, looking back out the window as the car pulled before a wide warehouse sat at the edge of a loading dock beside the bay. “Sneaky thing.” he mumbled. 

Nick held his hand out for her as they stepped from the SUV and didn’t let go as Dorghu and the nameless Orc beside him lead them to the warehouse, a cigarette still between his fingers, while he kept his eyes trained on the multiple Orcs standing beside the entrance, some brandishing the 79 jerseys while others wore the leather vests signifying their higher status. 

He nodded when others acknowledged him, but started to feel annoyance prick at his skin when some looked Callie up and down, her being oblivious to it all. 

The heavy door leading into the warehouse was opened and Dorghu motioned for the couple to follow. 

Nick pulled her past the two standing at either side of the door, but still caught when a younger one, who hadn’t earned his number, leaned in towards Callie and scented her boldly, his teeth bared proudly when she flinched and looked at him. 

The noise Nick made could’ve been a snarl, but it was booming, more like a roar as he forced his way between them and stood toe to toe with the young one, snarling back just as loudly. 

“Evgeni,” Dorghu barked, his thunderous voice making Callie flinch again. Her hand was still clenched in Nick’s, watching him rip loud growls out like he was a lion. Nick chuffed once more loudly as the younger Orc lowered his head, stepping away when Dorghu approached him menacingly. 

Callie watched with wide eyes from behind Nick’s shoulder as Dorghu followed his movements silently before pointing in her direction. 

“Do it again,” Dorghu ordered, and Evgeni looked at him, confusion lining his face. 

“I said scent her again!” Dorghu yelled, and Evgeni stuttered some before slowly moving to Callie, leaning in to scent her quietly this time as she leaned into Nick who in turn was growling loudly, his lips pulled back over his sharp teeth. This time he backed up quickly, his eyes still downcast. 

“What did you smell?” Dorghu asked, but Evgeni only shrugged, swaying a bit. “What did you smell?” Dorghu hollered, and Callie flinched again, muttering ‘Jesus christ’ under her breath with a hand over her chest. 

“Munguz,” he answered sheepishly. 

Dorghu stepped beside him and they could see the distress on Evgeni’s face. 

“And what does that mean?” the leader asked, and Evgeni’s angry, golden eyes flashed at Callie quickly before looking away. 

“They’re mated-”

“You don’t ever advance on another Orcs pair. In the laws that stand highest in our clans, you are never to advance on _another- Orcs- **pair**!_ ” he yelled, his mouth close to his ear. “Even the roundtooth. You will learn before you ever wear our cuts.” Dorghu ended in a snarl, walking back to the open door and leaving the youngin distraught and embarrassed. 

Nick pulled Callie along with a final chuff and they were lead into a massive structure full of storage units on either side, all marked in Orkish with various guards set about them. 

They walked to the end, and before Dorghu turned to speak to three Orcs standing beside a half-open pull down door, Nick could smell blood. His nose scrunched and Callie’s attention was brought back before them when the loud metal door was pushed up. 

“Go ahead.” Dorghu told him, stepping aside. 

Nick hesitated and looked down at Callie, who was equally apprehensive. He let her hand go, squeezing the back of her neck affectionately before stepping before the opening of the unit. 

He hung from chains clipped to the ceiling, his wrists forced above his head as he hung lifelessly above a growing pool of blood. The various used weapons around Gerrald told the story before Nick stepped close enough to see part of his beaten face and ruined clothing and resisted flinching when he found enough strength to look up at him with a heavy head, his one open eye landing on Nick. 

“Still alive y’pig face’fuck?” he slurred, bloody saliva dripping from his split lips. 

Nick was unmoving, his body tensed and eyes wide at he stared down at him. 

Gerrald smiled, many of his teeth gone and gums ripped. “What? S’prised I’still look better th’n all of youse? All you blue skinned fucks?” he asked vehemently, groaning when his body jostled and wiggled against the taut chains. 

Nick still stood, staring, and the longer he did, the more agitated Gerrald became. He tried standing, but his left leg bent unnaturally at his shin, causing a yelp of pain. He strained against the chains digging into his wrists, his broken body contorting and twisting. 

“Make a move! Do it, you pathetic piece of shit!” Gerrald yelled, blood spitting before Nick. His fingers started to crack at his sides, his ire growing. 

“Scared aren’t’chu? No matter what happens, ’I’ll be th’one to walk away,” Gerrald chuckled, his wide grin making Nick’s stomach roil. “You’re nothin’ but a stupid an’mal,” he went on, watching Nick move calmly away to grab a wooden bat at his side, and study its weight in his hands. 

“You can’t do it,” he sneered, bloodily. “You couldn’ even sto’me from getting to Valeria-”

The bat was yanked from his hands, and before he finished turning, Callie had it swung back over her shoulder and whacking it into Gerrald’s ribs, a sickening, crunching cough exhaling from his body. 

She did it again, the wooden bat smacking into his ribs, hips, knee caps- she hit him with every fiber of strength in her body, her wrist screaming in pain, but it all muted. 

“Fuck you-” she uttered and swung again. Gerrald wheezed, his eyes wide in horror, his body twitching to move away. “That’s not-” another crunching swing, “My-” one to his side, “Fucking-” a weaker one; she was starting to tire and pant, “ **NAME!** ”

The bat snapped with another swing into his knee and she threw it aside, resorting to grabbing his hair and throwing her fisted hand into his pulp like face. 

“You disgusting piece of shit-” she ground out, her cast bloodying as she slugged into him. 

“Callie!” Nick finally moved to her, his arms throwing around her waist when he couldn’t grab hold of her lightning strikes. He lifted her away, having to spin to yank her hold from his scalp. 

“I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll fucking rip you apart!” she sobbed, fighting Nick’s hold as he carried her away. 

“Callie calm down-” he tried saying, but she was wild with rage, even throwing her elbows back at him as he struggled to silence her. 

“Give her to me!” Matuk stepped forward, carefully snatching her arms so Nick could place her on her feet. She still protested, but calmed considerably when Nick was no longer around her. He watched her move away, tears staining her cheeks and steps uneasy. 

He was speechless and unable to even move as he watched her, waiting for her to spring into action again, but when she followed Matuk down the hall, the tension in his frame lessened and he looked to the Orcs who were also watching her, their expressions all perplexed. 

“Is he alive?” one asked, and Nick and Dorghu turned. 

Gerrald was either beaten into a coma or dead judging by the way he hung lifelessly, the broken bat beside him. 

“Strong girl,” Dorghu mumbled, and Nick looked down. Had she been hurting so badly?

“What now?” Nick asked. 

“You don’t want a swing at him?” 

He shook his head. “She did more than I ever could,” Nick sighed, rubbing the heel of his palm against his forehead. 

“I’m still leaving it to you to decide what we do with him,” Dorghu stated, crossing his arms. “Drop him off on the side of the road? Drop him in the bay with cinder blocks around his ankles? Torture him with rabid Brezziks?”

“No,” Nick stopped. “Turn him in,” 

Dorghu dropped his chin, looking at the roundtooth in an arrogating manner. 

“He has a wife and children who deserve to know what a fucking monster he is,” Nick explained, and Dorghu shook his head. 

“You can drop the cop motif when you’re here,”

“It’s not that. He took my family away but I won’t cripple his. I’m not like him,” Nick rumbled, looking at him with finality. 

Dorghu was reluctant, but with a hard exhale and the lighting of another smoke, he nodded, both of them looking at Gerrald who sometimes twitched. 

“I’d like to go home now.” Nick said, turning to find Callie. 

Down the hall and around a corner he found her, squatting against a wall with her face hidden in her arms, her casted, bloody, and probably sore arm hung over her knee. Matuk was beside her, his lumbering form crouched down beside her and trying to offer comfort, but she didn’t move until Nick called her name. 

Her head shot up, her red eyes finding his before she stood and walked into him. 

He held her tight against his chest, hushing her string of blubbering apologies muffled into his shirt. 

There was no need for fear, or unease, or tears anymore. The pain they’d carry about their lost family would follow them indefinitely, but the constant state of looking over their shoulders and their held-captive lives was gone. It washed over Nick the longer he held her, his fingers twisting in her hair as she latched onto him tightly. 

It was finally over. 

She remained under his arm again during the car ride, but this time with her arms around his waist, her face buried in his chest. With every mile put behind them, it was a great relief to know there would be no more attacks, and that they knew where he was and would be staying for now. 

They made it to Nick’s house and as she walked to the front door, Nick thanked them, calmly, bumping forearms and agreeing that when they needed his cop connections, he’d do so willingly. It was the least he could do for payback. 

The street cleared of SUV’s and Orcs, leaving them in solitude for the first time in nearly six weeks. It felt a little odd- the sudden lack of protection left him worried, but he was also confident that if anyone dared come after them again, he’d rightfully shoot them down. 

With a final overlook of his street, he followed Callie inside. 

He double checked his dead bolt, and took his gun from his kitchen with him into his room where he found he sitting at the foot of his bed, looking down at her cast. 

The gun was returned to the bedside table, and he sat next to her, her form swaying. 

“Hurts?” he asked, and she nodded, her thumb running over the stained blood. 

“Gonna have a hard time explaining what this was from,” she mumbled. He craned his neck to look it over. 

“Say you whacked an asshole in the face for harassing you,”

She scoffed. “Isn’t that what happened though?” 

They looked at one another and his shoulders dropped when she pulled his hand into her lap, her small hands trying to envelope his. 

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. 

He paused, but then nodded. “Kind of messing me up a little, actually,”

“Why?”

“I thought I’d be guilt ridden and all frantic by the time we got home, but I’m surprisingly okay with how it ended up,” he explained, his mouth in a straight line. 

“I’m sorry I stole your moment,” she said through the corner of her mouth. “I just got so fucking mad,”

“You needed that,” he told her, leaning to kiss her shoulder. “More than I did,”

She turned, her cheek bumping his forehead. His chin lifted to kiss her cheek. 

“I’m still sorry,”

“Don’t be. Neither of us should be,” he declared with a loose nod, his ears twitching when she looked at him. “I just want us to get on with our lives,”

She grinned. “It feels like years since this shit started,”

He chuckled. “Tell me about it,”

His fingers plucked at the hem of his pullover he still wore, her jean shorts barely peaking from underneath. “If you keep wearing stuff like this around other Orcs I don’t know if I can fight bigger ones off,”

She giggled, a wide smile stretching across her face. “I know someone who could take care of that problem,” she lured, looking up at him past thick lashes. “But he’s being kind of a prude,”

His hairless brows pulled together, his lip pouting. “Did you forget that big ass Fogteeth came to the door?” 

She giggled again, leaning to kiss him. His big hand came to hold her jaw, his eyes fluttering shut as he kissed her sweetly, the rampaging hunger from earlier starting to show it’s face again. 

“Is this inappropriate?” he asked innocently, turning to crawl after her when she slid back towards the center of the bed. 

“Extremely,” she kissed against him, pushing his jacket down his shoulders as he flung his arms to get it off. Next was his shirt that was yanked off by her and tossed aside and a chaste kiss before he pushed the oversized sweater off, leaving her in nothing but shorts. 

He laid over her, bare stomach to bare stomach, her thin, toned arms around his neck and moving smoothly as he revered in her kisses. 

When he took hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked back to gain access to her neck, she gasped, but smiled, her skin erupting with pleasant shivers. 

He sucked harshly at her pulse, a low purr resounding in his short breaths over her skin. 

He released her when he moved lower, wet smooches down between her breasts and around her ribs, gently moving over the bruises littering her body. He pulled the shorts down quicker than she could lift her ass and she whimpered when he shoved his hands under her knees, pushing them to her chest so he could run his tongue flat up her wet cunt. 

Long, drawn breaths were all she could muster at first, but moaned and held his forearms when he sucked her clit gently, pinning her legs forcefully when she wiggled beneath him. 

“Nick-” she gasped, breathlessly, her hands falling against the sheets and gripping. 

He finally released her legs and they fell over his shoulders, her hips rocking smoothly beneath his lovely assault. He touched her stomach and thighs, up along her ribs and over her round breasts. 

“Nick,” she called to him, but he didn’t leave. She huffed. “Nick get up,”

A low growl came from him and moved over her as she arched high. 

Her mind cleared enough to reach down and tug on his ears, eliciting a sharp hiss from him. He was above her in a flash, pinning her hands down beside her while he loomed over her. 

“You’re being gentle,” she breathed. 

“I’m not,”

“You are, stop it,” she ordered, and his eyes darkened. 

_She wants it, so do it. Fuck her._

Callie was flipped suddenly and he pulled up on her hips with her chest still against the bed. Thrill flushed her body, and she reared back, her bare ass pressing against his busy hands as he rushed to undo his jeans and push them down. 

His rigid dick slapped down against her cheek, and he took the moment to gaze down at his size compared to her, and the way she moved her knees farther apart. 

A shaking breath left his lungs. 

_Fill her up._

Callie moaned harshly when he shoved his way in, pressing tight against her cervix. She bowed when he pulled out and slammed in again, jolts of bliss shooting to every end of her body. 

He groused loudly above her, pushing her cheeks up and apart to watch where he stretched her. His eyes heavied with every long thrust into her wet, tight core, an impatience growing in his stomach. 

He grabbed hold of her arms below her shoulders and pulled back, leaving her hung in his grasp as he rapid fired into her. 

Callie yelled and cried and smiled, her hair in her face and bouncing as he fucked her with abandon, grunting himself with every hard impact. 

She exhaled his name and suddenly her arms were free and his hand was around her neck, pulling her up against his chest. He angled her jaw as he breathed heavily against her there, slowing to long strokes, his other hand canvasing her smooth form. 

“I can feel you so deep,” she moaned, reaching up for him. “You’re in my stomach,”

He groaned, his hand resting over her lower belly, imagining touching her where no one else could or would. His grip tightened around her neck and she whimpered, her hands flying to his arm when he rammed into her again. 

“You’re gonna stick another baby in me,” she gasped, and he whined, his grip again tightening. 

_Do it- fucking do it. Make her yours._

Callie was loosening in his hold and he pushed her forward, falling on his fists over her. The lack of oxygen made her hypersensitive, despite her vision doubling, she turned her head from the mattress, ready to sit up. 

“Get on top,” he demanded, flopping down next to her and scooting back so he rested against the headboard. She was sluggish, but crawled over him, using his hands to stabilize herself. With a strong shudder, she slid back down him, meeting his darkened eyes. 

“Ride it,” he said through clenched teeth, earning a languid nod from her. With hands against the headboard, she rode him leisurely, rocking and sliding, up and down, her neck craning back as he massaged along her body. He moaned and chuffed loudly watching his glazed dick become part of her, sitting forward to hold her tight against his chest. 

Callie snapped her hips fervently, finding the position where he rubbed deliciously inside of her. 

She cried out, doing it again and again, falling into a steady rhythm that made her eyes roll back. 

Nick ravished her breasts, pulling her nipples between his teeth and licking her exposed flesh. 

He stared down at the smooth, honey skin along the underside of her breast and he kissed there, listening to her climb higher towards her release. 

He touched everywhere, admiring her perfect skin. 

Her unmarked skin. 

Nick kissed her chest, a hand sliding up to hold her hair again. She cried out, riding him harder. 

“You’re mine,” he growled. 

“I’m yours, baby,” she sighed, her hands falling to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. “I’m so fucking yours,”

“This pussy,” he slurred, glancing down at her sex. “Everything- say it again,”

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” she sobbed, sweat lining her body. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpered.

Callie shrieked when he bit down, his teeth breaking through the skin of her under boob and his arms wrapping around hers when she tried to move him. 

Her blood could’ve been the elixir of the gods; his mind muddled and he lapped at her for a moment, taking in the exquisite flavor. 

“Nick!” she yelled, finally getting him to let go. 

He looked up at her and she didn’t recognize who she saw. Blood coated his mouth and lips and she could feel it dripping down her body, her breast starting to sting insanely. 

_There’s always blood._

He shoved her back, licking his lips and following her sprawled body, kissing roughly up her chest, leaving bloody marks up her neck and jaw. He settled between her thighs, and Callie moaned angrily when he found his way in, fucking her like an animal. 

“Nick-” she ground out, dragging her nails heatedly down his back, evoking a loud snarl from him. 

He held the sides of her neck as he fucked her, her feet hooked against his lower back as her climax came barreling towards her. 

“Cum in me,” she gasped, holding his bloody face. “Put another baby in me, amore,” she moaned, her eyes pinching shut. 

Nick watched her unfold beneath him, her hands flying to grip his rutting hips. She screamed and arched and became lifeless under him, her hold on reality fading as he dragged her orgasm out as long as possible. 

When she was spent and barely able to hang onto his shoulders, he sat upright to bring her hips up. 

Watching her breasts shake and his defined mark bleed while she looked up at him with hazy eyes brought him to his release, deep inside her pussy, exploding against her womb. He’d surely leave a bruise on her hips and his load seeped from her when he finished, pulling from her slowly to watch where-

Nick stammered, looking at her barely conscious face. 

“Cal,”

“Huh?” she cracked, still working on evening her breath. 

“You’re bleeding,” he said tensely, sitting back on his heels when she opened her eyes and forced herself up on her elbows, looking down at the blood covering both of them. 

“Oh fuck,” she sighed, flopping back down. “You knocked something loose,”

“I DID?”

She giggled, shaking her head and hissing when her arms moved around her chest but aggravated the bite. “It’s my period, mensito,”

The haze was clearing in his head and the actions he’d made were weighing on him. He overlooked her brutalized body and guilt started to swarm him. The red marks from his murderous grip on her neck and hips, the blood, the way she ragdolled as she rolled over and tried to stand. 

“Oh my god,” she blurted, rushing with shaking knees to the bathroom when juices started running down her legs. 

“I’m sorry,” he muffled into his hands, completely and utterly ashamed. 

 

He hesitated when she grunted, her eyes pinched shut and arms crossed behind her head as he carefully taped the gauze around the raw, red bite, trying to avoid taping her nipple. 

“Doing okay?” he asked, his finger following the medical tape to make sure it was snug on her skin. She nodded, cracking an eye open to look at his work. 

He moved so she could look in the mirror, turning this way and that to observe the makeshift band aid. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost too ashamed to look at her. 

“I told you to stop being gentle,” she shrugged, pulling a camisole down her body carefully. “I’m sorry I started on you,”

“About that,” he started, leaning against the sink. “Can’t you get… pregnant? Doing it that close?”

She nodded, her lips quirking to the side. “I doubt it’ll happen though,”

His brows raised. “Did you not see the load I left in you?”

She snickered, stepped forward to wrap her arms around his lean waist. “Tryin’ to stick another one in me?” she asked close to his jaw when he leaned closer, and he groaned, pressing his face against her neck. 

“Don’t start,” he whined, holding her firmly against him. 

“Did you lose your mind when I said that?” she smiled, and he nodded, his blood pumping. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

He nodded again and sighed, reaching between them to move his hardening dick up. 

“How long are you in heat for?”

“If you keep egging me on the way you do, it’ll never end,”

“Oo lucky me,” she simpered, finally getting him to look at her. But he paused, holding her face in his big hands, his thumbs stroking under her eyes. In a couple weeks time, the bruises would be gone, and there would be nothing left of their attacker except nightmares that would surely last. Everything awful that could’ve torn them apart only brought them back together again and Nick found himself overwhelmed and awestruck. 

“Why’d you stick around? After everything?” he asked, his voice wavering. “Anyone else would’ve left,”

“What kind of question is that?” she asked, holding his wrists. 

“I’m serious,”

Callie held his face now, leaning on her tiptoes. “Cause I’ve never cared what anyone has thought of us. I don’t care what anyone says or tries. As soon as I saw you, I knew I couldn’t let you get away, Nick. If there was anything ever besides you, it would be a lonely life. I don’t want a future without you.”

His exhale was trembly, so he hid his inevitable emotional outburst in an embrace, burying his face against her neck as she secured herself tightly around him. 

It was true- there was no future without Callie, not even if he found something remotely close to this with anyone else. He knew it in his bones, confidently and entirely. He would love her until his time was up and beyond. 

“You still have to meet my parents.” he mumbled, and she giggled, patting his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THEY GOT THE BASTARD AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH
> 
> Only one chapter left before there's a break between part 1 and 2!! Thank you EVERYONE so far for sticking along, and I'll see you for the final chapter soon!! ;)


	17. Endlessly

She watched him over the tops of her glasses, unmoving, and staring critically at it placed on the countertop beside where she perched on the edge of his tub. Her eyes moved around, her ankles shifting over one another, but he still didn’t move, even when she cleared her throat. 

“You haven’t blinked in like a minute,” she stated, and his eyes finally shot to her. 

“It’s only been a minute?” he asked, shoulders slumping. She nodded, glancing down at her phones timer.

His hands pulled down his face with a low groan, sliding down the wall until he landed on the tile floor. 

“Longest three minutes of your life, huh?” she simpered, seemingly unconcerned. He nodded, his head bouncing back against the wall. “It’s gonna be negative, don’t worry,”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, I just wanna know,”

“Minute and a half left,” she sighed, flipping her phone in her hands. 

Nick looked over her, picturing a distended belly beneath her T-shirt and popped shorts, wondering how off balance she’d be what with her short stature. He rubbed his eyes with his palms, smothering the thought. Since that morning, he’d let his imagination get the better of him, all the way to the drug store to pick up the pregnancy test then all the way home, and now here, waiting endlessly for it to finish.

“Done,” she said, quickly grabbing for the test. 

He rushed to her side clumsily, and they both stared down at the negative test. 

“Told you,” she murmured, obviously deflated and handing it to him. He studied it closely, turning it this way and that, thinking maybe it could’ve been a trick of the light. “My only chance came and went,” she added, and he looked at her. 

“You don’t know that,” he tried, tossing the used test in the trash. 

“Feels like it,” she mumbled, but Nick caught her arm when she moved to walk out, and brought her into a tight hug, kissing her cheek in attempt at eradicating the visible frown on her face.

“It’ll happen, baby,” he assured, squeezing her until she returned the gesture. 

“Kinda thought it would’ve been inevitable with how much we did it this week,” she said into his chest. “All that mess’a blood for nothing,”

He chuckled. “Still worth it,”

“Gonna start coming after me every time I’m on my period now?”

Impishly he nibbled her jaw. Another forceful kiss under the partly healed bruise on her face, and he let her go, smacking her ass before walking out. “Okay let’s eat now,”

Callie followed him out sluggishly, bumping into him when they wandered into the kitchen. With little energy, she went about throwing a breakfast together, often slumping against Nick when he stepped in to help. He’d chuckle and curl an arm around her neck, dragging her around as they shuffled between stovetop and fridge, and even took both their plates packed with chorizo con huevos and tortillas, his elbow still hooked around her neck as he pulled her over to his new table. 

“When’s your job interview?” he asked, stuffing a hearty bite into his mouth. 

“Tuesday,” she said around a mouthful of food, opening a cold can of soda. “I’m nervous as fuck,”

“You’re gonna own that shit. Do those big number equations in your head and I bet they’ll hire you on the spot,” he grinned. 

“Computers do everything at banks now- they wouldn’t need my hidden talent,”

“But how often do they have a human computer that can double check their work?” he tried, bumping his knee against hers. She smiled, smacking his arm lightly. 

“I need to go buy some cover-up. Can’t go in with a black eye,”

Nick nodded, sucking his teeth, and now expertly pinching a bite of the chorizo with his tortilla. She was perking up a bit now, like he knew she would when she found the Dr. Pepper he’d stashed for her in the fridge, but sensed unloading his next big surprise might send her reeling into panic. 

“So you said earlier that Rosie canceled tomorrow?” Nick asked, and Callie rolled her eyes. 

“I knew she wasn’t gonna go through with it- I’m getting my money back for those tickets,”

Nick swallowed his bite. “Keep the day open then,”

Her brow kicked up. “Why?”

“My parents wanna come over,”

Outwardly, she remained calm, but inside he knew she was frantic- like a person caught in a house on fire. She looked at her food, poking it absentmindedly with her tortilla. “So I need to buy cover-up _today_ ,”

“You don’t have to,” he told her. “They know what happened,”

“With me?”

“Everything. They’ve been asking how you’re doing-”

“Wait,” she interrupted. “Even the miscarriage?”

“I told them,” he stated, and she retracted, leaning back in her chair. 

“You said you wouldn’t,”

“I couldn’t lie about it. Felt like it’d be a slap in the face to you- like it’d be disregarding something you battled through,” he explained. 

She twisted her thumb in her other palm nervously. “How’d they take it?”

“They were pissed. They’ve been on my ass about dying without grandkids for years so when they heard it, they were about as angry as you. And they’re also very sorry,” he relayed, playing with her lithe fingers. “My mom asks about you a lot,”

Callie grinned. “Grandma by nature?”

He nodded. “Little ball of love like you,”

With a steadying breath and her shoulders rolling away some of the nervousness, she seemed to be capable of this next step in their relationship that admittedly should’ve happened months ago. She moved her hair from her cheeks, her fringe pinned back by her glasses still, and carefully poked her healing cheek. 

“Doesn’t look too bad?” she asked, and he shook his head, flashing a goofy grin. 

“You’re pretty no matter what,”

Another slap on his arm, and she spun her soda between her palms. “What’re they like?”

Nick leaned back in his chair now, exhaling as he chewed. “Mom comes off as mean at first, but she’s just a quiet observer, I think is the best way to put it. Really hard worker, never really takes days off. Can be super blunt, but crack her open and she’s really the best mom. Put up with all my shit and never complained,” he told her with a small smirk. 

It warmed Callie’s heart to see him speak so affectionately of his mom; clearly he’d been raised right. “And your dad?”

He rolled his eyes. “Smart- like really smart, but never short for some kind of raunchy joke,” Nick explained. “But he’s a gentle giant. The kind of person who can walk up to anyone from any walk of life and start a conversation,”

“You sound more like your mom than your dad,” she simpered, and he nodded in agreeance. 

“Got my mom’s height, too,” he grumbled. 

“You’re still my big guy,” she toyed, reaching to playfully trace the shell of his ear. It twitched, his cheeks turning a darker shade as he gently slap her hand away. “So I suppose we should stop by the store when we’re out today,”

“Yeah, after we go to the station though,” he stuffed the last bite in his mouth. “Don’t know how long it’ll take,”

“How convincing did you sound when your captain called?” 

“There’s no doubt in my mind that he has some suspicions about the whole thing. I genuinely forgot to act surprised when he called- in my head I was like ‘yeah I know he got the shit beat out of him,” Nick snickered, carrying their plates to the kitchen. 

“Did they tell you where he is now?” She followed him in. 

“Nah, we should get those details about that today,” 

“But we won’t have to actually see him right?”

“No, not at all. They only want our statements,” he reassured, holding her face when she looked here and there nervously. “There’s no chance he could show up after those blows you landed,”

She snorted softly, her head dropped and walking into his chest for a hug. Nothing else besides the anxiousness he could smell coming out of her pores showed her apprehension, and it started to affect him. He knew they’d be in separate rooms for their questioning- how would she handle it without him?

“Should we go and get this over with then? Make it a date afterwards?” he asked against her hair, and kissed her lips when she looked up at him with a quick nod. “Noodles for lunch?”

“Oh fuck yeah.” She grinned, another kiss, and the two of them moved to his room. 

It was decided that it was best for Callie to wear a long sleeve over her blood stained cast, despite their best efforts to wash it out with hydrogen peroxide. It bothered her some- every time she reached for something or twisted her arm, she had to pull it back down, and that in itself could raise suspicions. 

But with them both bundled and clad in black to avoid any extra attention drawn to them, Callie held Nick’s hand in her lap nervously as he drove, often looking at her from behind his dark Clubmasters to find her knee bouncing or adjusting her glasses nervously, repeatedly cleaning the lenses. All the way to the station, and when they stood beside his truck after parking, he reassured she’d be okay and there was no part of Gerrald she’d have to face that day. 

She clung to him in a fleeting hug before finally inhaling deeply and grabbing his hand tightly as he lead her to the front, her shield against the bad that inevitably awaited inside. 

Her face remained angled down while her eyes did the back and forth, recognizing faces she’d seen sneer or glare before. But now people looked in confused awe, probably not having expected to see the Orc no one liked who was beaten within an inch of his life walking through the front lobby, a fiercer glare across his scarred features to ward anyone off. 

It occurred to Callie that looking so weak and beaten beside him would only draw more assumptions, so she lifted her chin, her hand sliding up his arm to hold securely as they approached the front desk. 

“Jakoby,” the woman in uniform acknowledged, her platinum blonde locks pulled back into a sleek bun. 

“Here for Heig,” he only answered, hanging his sunglasses over his collar. _I’m here to talk to no one but Heig_ , was what his tone really said though, and Callie squeezed his arm, enormously proud of her Orc. 

The tall woman, McCann, only nodded absently as she moved away, leaving the couple at the counter to wait. A few more were still there, looking on how they figured was covertly, but Nick only flashed a passing glance with a cocked brow, unbothered as long as he didn’t hear them utter any foul words in regards to Callie. 

“You alright?” she asked lowly, and he nodded, still doing once overs of the area. 

“Forgot how welcoming this place is,” he mumbled, and she snickered. 

“Jakoby,”

They both turned, and there was Heig, followed by investigators in bland suits, files and folders in hand. That was when Callie tensed beside him, and he rubbed her back, silently comforting her. 

“Sir,”

“Gonzales here will accompany Miss Flores for her statement and I with you and Amar,” Heig instructed, stepping aside so the Hispanic detective with lines beside his eyes from smiling could greet her. 

“Miss Flores, pleasure to meet you,” he introduced himself calmly, clasping his other hand over hers when he shook. Callie only nodded, and Nick kissed her head before she followed Gonzales to one of the private rooms, twisting her palm around her thumb nervously. Nick wanted to run after her, but knew she’d be okay. It would most likely end in an anxious night at home after their visit, but Callie was strong. She could handle this on her own, he told himself. 

It all started from the beginning. Back to when Nick and Gerrald had any sort of contact, even passing comments when his attacker had first joined the force. There was no specific time they could pinpoint when the harassment turned from bothersome to hostile, but from the statement Callie gave them, he could’ve been planning this for years. 

Judging by charges on Gerrald’s hidden credit cards from his wife, he’d been a frequenter of Two Hands and from Jakes willingness to provide details and documents, he’d booked private dances from Callie at least once a week when she was still a regular working there, which was 4 years ago. Booths were dark, and dancers kept their distance. All this time she’d performed for him, unknowing of the obsession he held for her. Years and years, building a covet unbeknownst to everyone; a dangerous, sick fascination verified by kept receipts upon receipts of his visits to her club. Who knows how many times he could’ve followed her home or lingered nearby, unnoticed. 

The catalyst was Callie’s visit to the precinct that first time, and Nick could remember his face perfectly. 

What he thought was a sour, defeated glare was actually, probably, one of glaring realization that by some astral and amazing coincidence, Nick had scored the girl he so desired. Gerrald couldn’t stand seeing his favorite dancer in the arms of the Orc he despised, and it sent him over. 

Verified, and to Nick’s dismay, Gerrald had started to lash out at his wife and children. Screaming, breaking things, disappearing for days at a time and always with a chunk of their money withdrawn from the bank. Money that had been given to the Belye Volki in return for their muscle. The same muscle that had been used to attempt Nick’s murder. As long as money kept rolling in with the aid of his police connections, the rival Orcs gladly sent their biggest.

Gerrald only showed his face when his chance at getting his hands on Callie presented itself, resulting in her injuries and the death of their albeit very young fetus. But that brought a new edge to the charges they were pressing: manslaughter on top of attempted, and assault, not to mention breaking and entering and the class 2 felony he faced for stealing guns from the station.

By then, it had all come together. The long obsession, the careful planning, and the attacks. Hours later, and Callie and Nick had given every detail they could recall, but admittedly and horribly given their best shocked response when news ‘broke’ that Gerrald had been the victim of a grizzly attack, by unknown assailants, of course. 

Heig, judging by the way he studied Nick and had questioned any involvement he might’ve had with Fogteeth, obviously had suspicions when the Orc denied having any knowledge of Gerrald’s deadly attack, but couldn’t withhold commenting on his delight knowing he got what was coming. 

But it was all written, and recorded, and with a final signature, Nick rose to scope out Callie when he was told they’d be in shortly to discuss further details. 

She was also finished by the time he found her, and she visibly relaxed when she turned to see him walking in, kissing her head and then forehead as he sat beside her. Any little boosts he could give, he would. 

“If I’d known we were gonna be here for 2 hours I would’ve taken them up on that drink offer,” 

“Don’t- the sodas here are like 2 years old,” he teased, eliciting a giggle from her. “You doing okay?” he asked. 

“Um… yeah. I don’t know how to handle knowing he’s been around for so long and I didn’t know, but I’m generally okay. They didn’t tell me where he is now, though,”

“They will when they come back in,”

“Are they compiling evidence?” she asked. 

“At the copying machine actually,”

“Wait what?”

The door opened behind him, and Heig along with the three dressed investigators came in, all either sitting or standing on the other side of the table and handing over their own packets. 

“These are copies of your statements and the case number attached,” Heig explained, and Nick bumped her knee with his. “Jakoby you know what happens next,”

“Yes sir,” Nick nodded, thumbing through the pages. 

“But you don’t,” he looked at Callie, lacing his fingers together before him. “Both of your statements with additional statements and evidence will be sent off to a prosecutor's office and once they review it, it’ll be determined whether or not there’s sufficient enough evidence to send off to a judge for an arrest warrant,”

“How long does that take?” Callie asked. 

“About 3 days,” Nick answered, and she glanced at him before looking back at Heig. 

“And Gerrald? Where is he?” she pressed, tensing. 

“Hospital. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon,”

“Give me a number,” Callie demanded, and Heig sighed. 

“I can’t release that information to you-”

“And what if he gets out and isn’t charged with anything?” she lashed out, panic rising in her blood. 

“He will be,” Heig maintained, and Callie reclined some, having not realized she was on the verge of standing. “I can’t say how it’ll hold up in court or when that could happen, but this is more than enough,” he explained, and Nick was a bit surprised. From all people, his racist-ass Captain seemed more or less in Nick’s favor of the situation. 

“So go home and wait for the call. And I expect to see your ass here on Tuesday without a doctors note.” Heig pointed at Nick, and he nodded, fighting back an aggravated sigh. 

Nick stood before Callie did, grabbing the reports and ushering her out of the office, both eager to be done with this visit. 

“I really thought he wasn’t gonna be an asshole this time,” Callie said through the corner of her mouth, and Nick snorted. 

“Surprised he didn’t slap cuffs on me for being the victim,” Nick came back, Callie now snorting. “Lunch now?”

“Yes and then we can walk it off at the store.”

He was pulling his sunglasses from his shirt when his line of vision met another Orc, clad in the infamous 79 and standing with a couple others at the front, speaking with one of the receptionists. Ernie- he’d been on Nick and Callie’s patrol team quite a few times. A quiet Orc, never one to really tag along in the jokes they’d made when Nick was in the thick of his heat. 

It was natural now to raise his arm and bump his forearm with other Fogteeth, nodding at one another before they went back to their business. 

The sparse cops around the lobby watched, confused, their eyes lingering as Nick walked with Callie under his arm. It would’ve come out eventually, but until they had any hard evidence, no one could persecute Nick for being Fogteeth. 

↠

Her hands skipped over the clearance items, snatching a bottle of bouillon. They shuffled mostly, already exhausted from navigating a supercenter earlier that day and stuffed from pho, and often either of them would stop and stand with a hard exhale, and arms hung, ready to sit down and succumb to the food coma. 

“What if he wanders out and attacks us in a delusional state?” Callie asked, waiting beside Nick at the meat deli with a basket hung on her arm. “I’ve heard that when people aren’t completely conscious that they’re stronger,”

“He looked like hamburger when we left,” Nick intoned, critically eyeing the choices before him before pointing to a pile of thick steaks, asking for 2 pounds. She hmph-d, chewing her inner lip. 

“What if there’s still other Orcs he hired?” she whispered, and he dropped the bag of meat into the basket. 

“They won’t do anything without pay,” Nick pulled her along, tossing in spices she didn’t recognize and a few packs of spiral noodles, trading the heavying basket for a long baguette. “Volki aren’t the most efficient but they’re never ones to make themselves known. They know they’re compromised and if anything, Gerrald will be their target for the exposure, not us,”

She pursed her lips, following sluggishly until he had his arm around her waist, tugging her along. 

“Three days,” she scoffed. 

“And then it’s gonna be off to a judge, and everyday that passes we’re safer, so calm down, okay? Nothing else can happen,” he implored, bumping her chin with his knuckles. 

“Am I annoying you?”

“No but you’re tormenting yourself. We did everything we can and that fucker very well might never walk again. You saw how crooked his legs are, and baby,” he pulled her a little closer. “His jaw was barely hanging on when you were done with him,”

She fought the little smirk, hitting his firm chest. “I wasn’t exactly done with him,”

He cackled and kissed her cheek, keeping her in his hold as they wound up and down the isles of the supermarket, grabbing items for the dinner the following day and snacks. It was nice to return to some kind of normality, but a heavy thought saddled Callie’s mind despite the wide smile splayed across her face when they’d whisper jokes or pick at one another.

Nick would return to work, healed, and Callie would return home. If anything, they’d still spend most of their time together, but why did it feel like she would never see him again? Had she grown so comfortable at his house, in his company all day and night? How lonely would her bed feel without him there? Even when she was sleeping on his couch, he was so close. Could she ask to spend the night as often- was he looking forward to having his own space back?

She shook the intrusive thoughts. All that would change is returning to everyday life, hopefully with a new job under her belt. 

“What exactly are you making for tomorrow?” she asked, peering into the basket after he grabbed two thick stalks of leeks. 

“S’like a creamy, meaty pasta dish. Orc staple,” he grinned. 

“How come you’ve never made it for me? Huh?” she poked her elbow into his side. 

“Cause you don’t like these,” he retorted, grabbing a few fat cap mushrooms. She rambled out disgusted, blubbering mumbles as her hands drew in, veering a few steps away as he tried to hand them to her playfully. He went about picking the more favorable ones as she wandered on, her hands ghosting over veggies. 

When her touch slid across firm peppers, she grinned, turning to find him pulling a bag from the spinner. 

“You know, I’m still waiting on my truck load of bell peppers,” she pressed, dropping one of each into the bag. 

He frowned with his brows kicked up. “Stop by Costco and fill the bed up,” he said smartly, earning a light smack on his arm. “Need more time,”

“More than a year?” she asked, and he blinked. 

“It’s been almost a year already?”

“10 months in a couple weeks,”

He followed as she moved backwards, flicking her head to toss aside her fringe that was in need of a trim. He couldn’t see her eyes as well anymore. But watching her move away brought him back to a humid night in the dead middle of summer, and her once long hair whipping around her freckled cheeks as the waves crashed below them at the Santa Monica pier, the glimmer in her brilliant eyes lighting up the night. 

_“Good thing I have you before I turn my back on the world,”_

_Callie closed the gap between them, and he had her sides just as she’d stretched to kiss him. “Always.” she devoted softly, kissing him again._

10 months from then to now, and nothing in his unwavering intensity for her had lessened or changed, and through it all, she’d remained at his side, even when the world had seemed to tear them apart. 

Nick was gazing at her, he knew it, but he couldn’t help the incredible blessing he felt washing over him. How had he been so lucky to land Callie?

“Couple more months and I can ask you to move in,” he said softly. 

Her heart thundered, and she suppressed a wide, relieved smile. “I still have 8 months left on my lease,”

“I’ll ask again in 8 months then,” he caught up to her, holding her tight to his side. “Until then I’ll fill our garden with bell peppers,”

“A lifetime's worth,” she grinned, and met him halfway for a kiss. 

“Only if you stick around that long,” he kissed quickly against her temple. 

“My god just propose already,” she toyed dramatically, and he tugged on a lock of her hair to silence her, but only evoked a string of giggles. “Okay let’s go home, I want out of this bra,” she grunted, wiggling her arms against her chest. “Bandage is itchy as hell.”

They didn’t leave without a six-pack of Modelo’s; it was Callie’s turn to choose the ale, but only smirked when Nick groaned. They ambled through the long check-out lines they never could seem to avoid, bumping each other back and forth lazily with the basket in Nick’s grasp. The cashier looked at Callie sympathetically when she moved her glasses down to count her change and hand it to him, but Nick just scoffed. No longer did the need to prove himself alarm in his heart. He was done trying to be friends with a world no one wanted him a part of. 

But accepting that was easier. Why did he need the thrill of a nod from a stranger instead of a glare if he had Callie, and Ward, even a few friends by his side? Could passing hello’s from strangers like he wasn’t branded a freak ever match up to what he had in front of him? 

He watched Callie, chatting idly with an older woman bagging her items beside her, a small smile curling her full lips. 

Nearly 10 months of bliss, and fighting, and misery and blood… but such a deep, and endless love. 

Next 100 years would be easy. 

Right?

↠

“I’m so full,” Nick exclaimed, his head craned back as he waddled from the kitchen with Callie behind him, at last pulling the loose shirt off her body to give the sore bite under her breast some time to breathe. 

“Not in the mood for desert?” she said against his skin, her arms thrown around his waist. He chuckled as they made it to his bed before he spun and threw her against the mattress, crawling after her. 

Callie pulled him down with a smile, peppering his face with sweet kisses as he grunted and shifted over her before finally flopping on his side. 

“Too full,” he groaned, but caressed her thigh when she rolled, holding her cinched waist. 

“Why did you let me eat so much?” she groused, and he snorted. 

“I can’t be held responsible for that,”

“Cause you were stuffing your face too,” she giggled, shrieking when he dug his fingers into her ribs. He let up quickly knowing if he watched her uncovered boobs jiggle around too much he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from finding his way in. “You bastard,” she said sleepily, and sighed when he massaged her hip, moving down her thigh and back up. 

The bruises on her stomach were finally improving, but that meant darkening before they’d eventually fade. He traced the edges of them around her belly button, catching the length of her scar on his journey, and folding his hand to trace circles with his knuckles against the spot a bump would’ve started to show if she’d still been pregnant. 

Nick pulled his hand back. 

To anyone else, there was so much wrong with her. Cuts, bruises, a cast- yet she seemed so unfazed by it all. It seemed to only hold her thoughts hostage when she’d catch sight of her flat stomach in the mirror, or when she was washing her face, her touch lingering over the gash on her lip or temple. Not to mention the considerable worsening of her vision; she could hardly text now without her arms outstretched. 

The soft graze of fingertips against her chin cracked her eyes, and she gave him a lopsided grin with her face pressed into the sheet, her brows twitching in discomfort when the gash on her lip stung. He traced her bruised jaw, endearment stirring the warmth in his heart when she held his knuckles against her lips, kissing softly. 

Callie pulled his hand under her chin, the fingers of her casted hand lacing awkwardly with his as she scooted closer across the mattress. 

Their foreheads touched, and his hand slid across her cheek to push her hair away. 

She held his hands there, sighing in content when his thumbs caressed under her eyes, featherlight over the blemish. 

“This is nice,” she whispered, the two lost amongst the blankets scattered about their bodies. 

“Mhm,” he hummed. His heart fluttered, watching her blink into focus on him, pulling his thumb to kiss his palm. “You’re so beautiful,” 

“Your face looks better than mine,” she rasped, burying her face farther into his hand. 

He shook his head, wiggling so they were up against one another. “You’re always so beautiful,”

“Shut uuup,” she whined, hiding her face. 

“Nah lemme look at you,”

“That’s not creepy at all,” she rolled onto her other side, but he scooted over, pulling her back against his chest and smooching her shoulder. 

“I’m imagining what our kids would look like,”

She paused, and for a split second he thought he’d over-stepped, but she shimmied onto her back, looking up at him. “I think about it all the time,” 

“Yeah?” he asked, resting on his elbow. She nodded. 

“I wonder who’s nose it would’ve had, or if it would’ve looked more human than Orc, but I’m pretty sure it would’ve had your eyes,” she explained. “And your ears… probably your nose too- I think they would’ve looked nothing like me, honestly,”

“A boy would’ve looked like you,”

“That means you’d make pretty girls,” she mumbled, and then her brows curved up. “Oh my god can you imagine having little daughters chasing after you? Calling you daddy?”

“Okay stop,” he whined, dropping his face against her chest. Now she pulled him in tightly, caressing the back of his head as he embraced her. He stared down at the fresh bite, tempted to pull his touch over it but knew it must’ve been tender as hell. 

“Nick, what if I can’t ever give you a baby?” she asked suddenly. 

“Don’t go there,”

“I’m serious-”

“Don’t,” he leaned over her, clapping a hand over her mouth, her brows furrowing slightly. “Don’t do that to yourself. It’ll happen but even if it never does that doesn’t mean I’d be less inclined to follow you wherever you go the rest of my life,”

She mumbled something unintelligible, but still he nodded, removing his hand. “Yes, we can adopt 10 pitbulls if it doesn’t work out,” he assured, and despite a gloss filming over her eyes, she grinned, holding his face.

“You’re so perfect,”

“Oh stop,” he kissed her, moaning when she curled around his neck. “Wait,”

She waited, one of her thighs already having slid between his. 

He thought over his words before speaking. “I don’t want to actively… try, until we know he’s behind bars,”

“Oh- _duh_ , Jesus I thought you were gonna drop a bomb in my lap,” she exhaled, moving her hair from her face. 

Another kiss, and he was sitting up on his knees, parting her legs until he found his place between them. She turned boneless in his hold, her body arching deliciously as he pulled from underneath her, bringing her chest carefully against his open mouth. 

“Isn’t this actively trying?” she breathed, rubbing his shoulders as he swirled his tongue around a standing nipple. 

“Think of it as not not trying,” he said quickly, rocking forward to catch her lips in another lock. “Is that okay?”

She nodded eagerly, yanking him over her, her hips raising to meet his in a firm rut. He chuffed against her jaw, giving into a few leisure thrusts with her body raised like that. “It’s gonna happen, Cal,” he paused, holding her jaw gently. “I’m gonna give you a kid one day.”

“I’m holding you to it.” she grinned, and exclaimed when he rolled, admiring her body as she moved above him.

* * *

She’d gone back and forth between the kitchen and table at least 5 times since he’d been standing there for no more than 3 minutes, and he suspected it’d keep happening until he resorted tying her to a chair. 

Callie was at the table, poking the tableware into neater arrangements, glancing nervously at him and flashing her best ‘don’t-worry-I-won’t-have-panic-attack-in-front-of-your-parents-but-I’ll-have-five-beforehand’ smile. And here she came, back into the kitchen to peer over his arm and down at the simmering pan. 

“I keep stopping myself from telling you it looks done cause I have no idea how to cook this,” she rattled, leaning her butt against the countertop to steal some sips from his beer, most likely. Hers had been thrown back hours ago, when she was only a fraction of the nerves she was now. 

“Give it about 10 more minutes,” he nodded, setting the spoon beside the pan. “But you need to calm down. They’re gonna think you’re high on something with how fast you’re moving,” 

“ _Pfft_ I wish I was high at this point,” she groaned, pushing her hands back through her hair. “I don’t even know why I’m so nervous, it’s not like I’m guilty of something,”

“Yeah they’d smell that,” he joked, and she looked at him, horror paling her face. 

“Oh my god they’re gonna smell that we fucked last night!” She cried, holding her own cheeks. “They’re gonna know I was upside down!” 

He shrugged indifferently, weighing his hands. “You were more folded than anything-“

“They’re gonna think I’m a skank for having sex after just losing a baby,” she complained into her palms, and Nick chuffed. 

“See now you’re just making bad assumptions,” 

Callie looked up at him, and frowned, dropping her gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,”

“It’s fine. But you seriously need to calm down. I can’t keep giving you beer,” he grinned, opening his arms for a tight hug. Callie rushed into him fast enough that he almost lost balance, but with a good squeeze, she was already calming and reaching under his hold to pick up the spoon and stir the creamy food. 

A round of solid knocks on his door had her spinning in his arms, and he squeezed her shoulders with a kiss to her cheek. “It’s gonna be okay.”

She followed slowly as he walked to the front door, opening it calmly after shooting her an encouraging, goofy grin. 

“Hey Ma,” he said happily. 

“Yah, ‘hey Ma’ like you invite us over enough to act all non-chalan,” she stepped inside, the colorful head wrap fanning around her shoulders like silky hair pairing beautifully with the burgundy sweater she wore. Her accent was definite and Callie was surprised she was donning a Russian one at that. She smacked his shoulder when he opened his arms to hug her, so he pouted, his ears twitching, but nevertheless she hugged her son securely. “How’re you feeling, ukmall?”

“It’s nonchalant- I’m better. Hi dad,” Nick unwound from his concerned mother to quickly hug his dad, who from a fleeting, previous glance before, was much taller than Nick. Callie stiffened when his head turned right towards her, looking at her through glasses similar to Nick’s Clubmasters. 

_No wonder he liked those so much…_

“Hello there,” he also had an accent, but not nearly as thick as his mothers. He moved past Nick whose mouth opened to protest, but it was too late. “I’m Oleg, I’m assuming you’re Callie,” Oleg grabbed her hand to shake gently, clasping his other over their connected palms, and she had to remind herself to shake back as she literally looked up at him. 

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you-,”

“Come, come meet Nick’s mother,” he gently pulled her along with a wide hand on her back. Nick shrugged as she passed, a playful frown on his face. 

“This is Dinara-”

“I can introduce my’own, Oleg,” Dinara snapped, but he only smiled sheepishly, his impressive tusks flashing. Her bright golden eyes softened when flickering back to Callie, and she took Callie’s hand from her husbands, simply cradling it. “I’m glad to finally meet you, Calista,”

“I’m so happy to meet you too,” Callie replied sweetly, observing the sudden shift from ferocity to reserved concern. 

“After months and months apparently,” Dinara turned on her son, motioning her hand in anger in his direction. 

“Ma come on,” Nick groaned, head cocking and eyes rolling. Oleg snickered, and Nick elbowed him, sparking a playful glare-off between them. 

“Think she was gonna eat her alive like the other ones, ah?” his dad teased, and Callie’s brow cocked. 

“Other… ones?” she asked hesitantly. 

“You make me sound like a monster,” Dinara hissed. 

“He said it!” Nick defended. 

“It’s okay, human doesn’t taste that good,” Oleg said lowly as he passed, but winced and exclaimed when Dinara smacked the back of his head. “Hispanic might not be as bland though-”

“DAD,” Nick hollered, stepping towards Callie who was biting back a wide smile with her fingertips against her lips as she watched his parents move into his house, and how Dinara chewed him out quietly in Orkish, but he was only a tower of laughter as he lovingly held his wife's shoulders. 

“That’s them,” Nick muttered. 

“I expected different from what you told me.” she grinned. 

“I told you exactly what to expect.” he shrugged, motioning to follow him into the kitchen. 

 

“You’re lucky he’s calm now. When he was a child? Couldn’t keep him still. He’d climb trees and run into traffic,” Dinara recounted, her hands animated and motioning as she recounted old stories of Nick’s younger days. 

“And he would fight other kids! He was a little animal,” Oleg said around a mouthful of food. 

“Okay you said I was 4 when that happened,” Nick tried defending himself, his knife pointed at Oleg. 

“4, 16- what’s the difference?” his dad grinned. “Couldn’t handle another demon like him. One and done,” 

Callie chuckled. “Where’d all that feistiness go?” she asked, pushing him a little. 

“Left it behind in my twenties,” Nick mumbled, chuffing when Callie rubbed his arm. 

“Ai, mi viejo,” she cooed, but he pushed her back, scooping his food into a bite. 

“What’s that?” Dinara asked. 

“My old man,” Callie answered, earning a flat glare from Nick and a booming laugh from Oleg. 

“What’re you laughing at, you fossil?” Dinara defended him, and Oleg’s face scowled some. 

“I’m still in good shape for 77- Callie would agree,” he retorted, puffing his chest and squaring his shoulders. 

“Really? 77?” Callie asked, eyes wide in amazement. His parents both nodded, Oleg sitting up proudly. 

“Wanna know something interesting though?” Oleg asked, and Nick raised his fork the same time Dinara flicked his hand. 

“Oleg-”

“Orcs perform 20 years younger in bed. He should still be going like he’s in his twenties, ah? Smell it in here like the 70’s,” Oleg harassed mercilessly, smiling, warding off Dinara’s attacks as he tormented his son who had his face buried in his palms. Callie followed suit, hiding, but giggling madly. She knew they’d know how active their sex life was, but didn’t expect to be called out so harshly. 

“Can we be done with the embarrassing stories?” Nick whined, finally uncovering his flushed face and throwing back the rest of his beer. 

“Ahh, you have no humor, boy,” Oleg groused, evoking an argument between the two that Dinara wanted nothing to do with, so she turned to Callie. 

“Callie,” she said, and Cal looked at her, lowering her drink. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m- I’m good,” she grinned. 

“I mean how are you _feeling_?” she asked again, and for the first time that night, she could feel her looking at the bruises coating her features instead of Callie as a whole, and assumed she was asking generally about her condition. 

“Um…” Callie pondered, swirling the drink in her glass. “I go back and forth,” she started, and Nick had stopped bickering with his father to look at her, listening quietly. “Some days I feel okay and others I feel like I did something wrong, and that guilt won’t lessen,”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Nick said quietly, and she shrugged indifferently. 

“Can’t help how I feel,” 

“It’s not strange,” Dinara commented, her chin rested atop her knuckles, her small shoulders drawn in. “A piece of you was taken away,”

Nick ran his hand down the back of her hair when Callie looked down, leaning over to kiss her cheek without waver. 

“Ahh, you must see the squishy side of our son quite often,” Oleg cooed, and Nick’s head snapped in his direction to glower. 

“Squishy?” Callie repeated, relieved the subject was shifting. But with a final glance in Dinara’s direction, her warm eyes said everything she might’ve wanted to say before her husband interrupted. Only compassion and understanding came from that look and small nod, and Callie wondered what she had ever been worried about in the first place. 

“He’s such a grump- never showed any kind of affection for his other girlfriends. He’d sit there like a plank, wouldn’t even hold their hands or smile,”

“Those little witches didn’t even bother chewing with their mouths closed,” Dinara added in quickly. 

“How many did you bring to meet?” Callie asked, eyeing Nick suspiciously. 

“Okay first of all-” Nick started. 

“Ffffour…?” Oleg counted, thinking back critically. 

“Shut up. None of them lasted more than a month,” 

“Hama was the worst. Her tusks were nearly black and she drew on crooked eyebrows,” Dinara shuddered, and Nick was hiding his face again as Callie leaned in, completely enthralled. 

“There was Glasha,” Oleg held up two fingers now. 

“Kept calling him Opal,” Dinara exclaimed, jabbing her thumb in Oleg’s direction. 

“Shel,”

“Shel was mean,” Nick said, despite hiding. “She ghosted me after I told her I wanted to be a cop,”

“Well I can’t blame her entirely for that one,” Dinara mumbled, and Nick’s arms raised in defeat, leaning back in his chair. 

“Here we go again…”

“Why do you want to stand up for a people who look at you like you’re infected?” his mother questioned, inclining over the edge of the table. 

“None of the reasons you think I wanted to,” Nick snapped, crossing his arms. 

“What about you, Calista? You mind if he’s the Orc cop?” 

Callie faltered a bit, but looking at Nick’s downcast eyes and stiff shoulders stirred the protectiveness in her heart, even if it was his own mother berating him. 

“I don’t mind, actually. I never saw Nick as just an Orc, or just a cop, or the Orc cop. He’s always just been Nick to me,” she explained, nervously reaching for his hand under the table. “I worry about him all the time, but I think Nick will bring change with him where he goes. I think it’s only a matter of time before people gain courage like him and start pursuing dreams that are usually unreachable,” 

Callie’s cheeks heated when it remained silent, but Nick had pulled her hand into his lap and squeezed, silently thanking her. 

“You look like the bad guy now,” Oleg whispered loudly to Dinara, and she smacked his hand again as he chuckled. 

“I suppose I do,” Dinara sighed, holding her own cheek. “I worry for you, ukmall. What if something happens to you when you have children?”

“Then I’m really not gonna let anything happen,” Nick replied coolly. “Especially not to any of my kids,”

“Planning a family already?” Oleg asked, taking another massive bite of the food.

Callie and Nick looked at one another. Callie smirked, almost unnoticeable, and he did too. 

“I want all boys. Bunch’a little Nick’s running around,” she simpered, and Nick kissed her hand, rolling his eyes when Oleg whined ‘Awww’. 

“You wouldn’t be bothered having Orc children?” Dinara asked, and when Callie’s eyes flashed to hers, she couldn’t restrain some of her annoyance. Ultimately, she understood his mother's hesitance to let anyone near her son who’d received bitter lashings most of his life, but also wished she understood that Callie felt the same way. She didn’t want anyone near Nick who could harm him, and her heart had decided long ago that there would be no other she wanted raising her children then him, assuming she could eventually bare life. 

“Halflings deal with twice the normal hate than Orcs,” Dinara added. 

“Mom,” Nick said firmly, but his mother was resolute. 

“You wouldn’t be bothered having hafling grandchildren?” Callie bit back hotly, but Nick saw her knee bouncing. That was a wide leap to make. 

Dinara nodded, the corner of her mouth finally kicking up a bit. “Good girl. Teeavh ukavayun barun,” 

Callie’s brows flickered in confusion, but Nick and Oleg’s satisfied nods silenced her. Something was transpiring here, and she didn’t want to ruin it. 

“Expect your kids to be tiny assholes like this one, though.” Oleg interjected, and Dinara and Nick both rolled their eyes while Callie laughed. 

The conversation winded back to lighter topics as the long dinner dragged on, but after standing her ground, Dinara didn’t blister Callie with questions most likely meant to shake her foundation; to make her prove exactly where she stood beside Nick. Children didn’t come up again, but Oleg made it a point to draw out Nick’s embarrassment at any chance he could snatch, always resulting in Dinara stepping in to fend off the teasing as Nick hid away, sometimes leaning against Callie while she hid her laughter behind a napkin. 

It jumped here and there, ranging from examining some of Callie’s tattoos and Dinara telling how she’d always wanted a few all the way to how Oleg had been a chiropractor before teaching at the university. “I used to smoke joints before I cracked them.” he teased, and even Nick almost shot drink from his nose when he heard that one. 

Somehow they made their way to the backyard, and with sweaters wrapped tightly around their frames, the women sat at the table with mugs of tea as Nick and Oleg wandered around his garden. His dad always had something to point at and correct, which always stirred more arguing, but Dinara rolled her golden eyes and waved them away. 

“Those two never end,” she groaned, sipping her tea, and looking over to Callie as she grinned at her lover. “Calista,”

“Callie, please,” she corrected. 

Dinara nodded. “I’m sorry for picking at you. I could see fire spitting from Nick’s eyes everytime I asked a question,” his mother explained, looking back to her men. 

“I think I’d be the same,” Callie assured. 

Dinara sighed, her head tilting. “I worry about him greatly, yet somehow after years of hate and bitter humans he’s remained my sweet boy. I’ve so longed for him to find someone so he’s not lonely,” she went on softly. “I’d always tell him- just show them how kind you are, my love, and he’d say Ma, I have! Humans hate what they fear,” 

“It’s true,” 

“You didn’t though. You befriended my son who’s usually a wall,”

Callie giggled. “It was the other way around, actually. I don’t usually like talking to people but he was just too damn cute in that uniform,” she admitted, and Dinara laughed. 

“You better not be telling her more stories,” Nick grumbled as they walked up to them, placing their own mugs on the table before flopping back into their chairs. 

“You two should join the ballet with that kind of choreography,” Callie piped, and Dinara laughed again, earning sour stares from Nick and Oleg. 

“You will have to rub my back tonight, I’ve eaten too much,” Oleg groaned, and Nick looked at Callie with a pout, nodding in agreeance with his father, but his silent plea was shot down with a hard shake of her head, but winked before he looked from her.

“I suppose we should go then,” Dinara declared with a sigh, looking at Nick. “I have to take care of that,” she mumbled, eyeing his father; Nick snorted. 

“You act like you don’t have any use of me when just last night you were _begging_ -” 

“ **Oleg**.” Dinara snapped, and Callie was struggling not to choke on her tea, but Nick was covering his ears, yelling at his father to shut up. Oleg didn’t seem to understand why so much trouble had suddenly befallen him, with his palms raised and the mischevioused of smiles across his face. 

Dinara hugged Callie this time, her thin arms strong around Callie’s shoulders. “Make him call us.” Dinara whispered, and with a light chuckle and nod, Dinara stepped back, holding Callie’s face a chaste moment before hugging Nick. 

“Take it easy on her.” Oleg winked, flinching when his wife flicked his cheek. 

She thought it precious when she watched his parents walking down the path, Oleg’s elbow hooked around Dinara’s neck and her arm around his waist, chatting silently as they left. 

Nick stretched fiercely as she locked the door behind them, immediately maneuvering her bra around to relieve some of the pressure on the bite. 

“So?” he asked, his arms dropping. 

“Your dad is fucking hilarious,” she smiled, and he rolled his eyes, pulling his hands down his face as he turned away. 

“He’s a handful,”

“Nah it’s funny,” she insisted, walking into the kitchen as Nick collected the plates across the table. Before anything however, Callie pulled her bra from underneath her shirt, exhaling in great relief when the bite no longer itched manically. 

“Your mom totally has that mama bear thing,” Callie mentioned. “I’ve never met a mom so protective of her baby boy,” she cracked, and he blew a raspberry as he walked back to stack the dishes beside the sink. 

“She likes you- she wouldn’t have been mean if she didn’t,” he explained, and her brow cocked. “Glasha, one of the exes? When I brought her around, my mom was silent the entire time and let her go on and on, all disrespectful, and when I apologized to her she said- ‘it’s okay ukmall, she won’t be around very long anyways,’”

Callie made an ‘O’ face, giggling the more she imagined how Nick must’ve looked when his mother dropped that bomb. 

“I’m glad then. I really like your mom,” she nodded. “What does ukmall mean?”

“Tiny,” he intoned, his mouth in a straight line. 

“Oh! That’s like what Rosie call’s Joaquin! She calls him ‘nano’ cause he’s small,”

“I’m only small compared to some,” he guarded. 

Compared to her, Nick was a thick man, given just enough height to still intimidate humans, but to other Orcs, he was rather small. It got Callie thinking, and wondering what genes would carry on to their kids, but she shook her head stiffly. 

_Stop getting ahead of yourself_. 

“So what’s next? Cousins?” she asked, rinsing the plates as Nick nibbled on the last piece of toasted bread. 

“I suppose. Next family reunion. You’ll need to make a list to remember all of them and my aunties and uncles,” he chewed. “Most of the from my dads side,’

“They like him too?” she grinned, and he nodded, his eyes rolling back in exhaustion. 

“All a bunch of animals,”

“So that’s where you got it from in your younger days?”

“Probably,” he threw back the last of another beer, groaning when he leaned against the counter. 

There was a pause, and then she was suddenly stepping towards him to kiss his cheek, then a sweet one on his lips as he looked at her curiously. 

“What’s that for?” 

“I was thinking about what your mom said,” she explained, continuing with the dishes. “That when you brought your other girlfriends around you didn’t show affection, or much of anything. It made me feel like you’re really in for this,”

“I wouldn’t’ve asked you to meet my parents if I wasn’t,”

“Well what about the others? Sounded like you introduced them pretty quickly,” she eyed him. 

“That was different. I was lonely,” he intoned, his arms crossing defensively. 

“Didn’t have any friends back then?”

“Well sure, but not that kind of lonely,” he mumbled, searching for the right words. 

“Touch starved?” she asked, and he nodded. “I get that. Before I met you I hadn’t been with anyone for like a year and some change,”

He grinned. “Found each other at the right time,”

“Wish it would’ve been sooner,” she simpered, leaning against him when he pressed to her side, his hand against the back of her neck so he could place a few kisses on her temple. 

“We have time to make up for it,” he said contently. 

“Long time.” she grinned, craning her head back to kiss him. 

“Endlessly.”

* * *

He’d just walked into the bathroom with her favorite mug in hand, filled to the brim with hot tea as she was pulling the curler through the last lock of hair. She quickly ran her fingers through it, reaching for the hairspray to coat her head. He coughed, leaning back from the small plume of chemicals. 

She fluffed the ends around her shoulders, looking back at him in the mirror. 

“Why aren’t you dressed?” she asked. 

“My uniform is in my locker,” he chimed, and she sighed, looking back at her reflection. “You look so pretty,”

She shrugged, pulling on the thin collared blouse before she did the black collared jacket, rolling the sleeves up to the white dress shirt beneath accented it nicely. “If I get hired there it’s gonna be expensive keeping up with the dress code,”

“Gonna miss wearing jeans and sandals?” he grinned. 

“So much. At least I’ll be in air conditioning.” She smoothed her hands down her hips, over the fitted pencil skirt that brought the entire outfit together. Callie turned this way and that, constantly tugging on ends of the clothing and fixing her neat fringe, all the while Nick watched her with a grin in his pullover and sweats. 

He steadied her as she slipped on her heels, even raising her hand to spin her slowly before him, holding her own face when pink dusted her cheeks. A final spin before the mirror and a flick of her head to move her hair from her eyes, and she exhaled, satisfied with her interview outfit. 

“You look nervous,”

“I am for you,” she mumbled, digging in her makeup bag to pull out the deep shade of red lipstick she often wore. “Are you sure you’re okay to go back?”

“I’m okay baby. I don’t hurt anymore. Plus, I don’t think Heig would let me waltz in with anymore doctors excuses,”

“Fuckin’ dick,” she said, smoothing her lips together after applying the lipstick. 

He nodded, sipping the tea he’d originally made for her. “I guess you’re heading home today after the interview?”

At first she didn’t look up when she shrugged, but eventually she turned to face him, her heels clopping against the tile. “I guess?”

He ran his tongue over his clipped tusks. “It’s gonna be weird not having you around all the time,”

“Will you still come over? Probably tonight when I inevitably get too lonely?” she asked quietly, peaking at him from behind her bangs. 

“I was gonna come over anyways. It’s gonna be too empty here,” he grinned, and held her jaw delicately to kiss her a few times as she approached him. “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” she grumbled, reaching to grab her bags, but he scooped them up first. 

 

“No glasses… no, I think I’ll wear them,” she put them back on, patting her thighs a couple times. “I still can’t see,” she sighed, defeated, but couldn’t rub her eyes. 

“Keep them on if they help,” he decided for her, his wrist rested over the steering wheel. A curt nod, and she fixed her tresses again before turning to him. Her big eyes were a deep, warm ocean of worry, and it in turn made him frown. 

“Baby,” he whined. 

“Text me? When you can and be safe?” she croaked, clutching his hand tightly. He pulled her over the center console, kissing the worry from her stressed frame. He held her tightly against his chest for a little bit, mindful of her neat hair and smartly pressed outfit, willing her anxiety to reel back enough just for today. 

“I’ll be in touch, okay? Go in there with a clear head,” he kissed her again. “And I’ll be over tonight with pizza and drinks to celebrate,”

She nodded, blinking the moisture from her eyes before grabbing his face to kiss him again, lingering, committing this to memory when her heart demanded it. The rampaging fear he wouldn’t return to her at days end was suffocating her, but she wouldn’t say it out loud. She wouldn’t acknowledge her demons. 

“I love you Callie.” he told her, his forehead against hers. 

“I love you so much.” she sighed, her thumbs tracing his cheeks before she finally let him go. 

She left her bags behind since she was going to see him again later, but had her purse tight at her side, her hands fiddling before her as she walked up the curb. Callie faced him as the engine turned over, flashing a nervous smile before walking into the bank. 

He knew she’d do good. He knew from the very depths of his heart that she could nail this, and that going back to work would bring her back into routine and take up her time so her thoughts didn’t have space to drag her down. Even if it meant seeing her less, this was good for her. 

He drove to the station in silence, the radio a soft lull, and the seat beside him empty. 

That was going to take some adjusting to. 

The precinct was as unwelcoming as ever, and he parked in the back lot like always, grabbing his warbag before walking to the entrance. Nick went generally unnoticed as he wound his way through the halls, only meeting a few unsavory glances from fellow officers that obviously would’ve preferred him not returning. Nick dished out his coldest glares, his chin lifted proudly as he made his way to the lockers. 

_Fuck who ever doesn’t like you._

The target poster with his name written crudely across the top had been taken down, and when he wrapped around the isle of lockers to find his, Ward was already changing. 

“My man!” Daryl said cheerily, the men clasping fists and hugging quickly. “All healed up?”

“Pretty much. Little help from Callie last night.” Nick said quieter as he opened his locker. The photobooth strip was still there; he’d never taken it down, and now fixed it beside the small mirror. 

“Good t’have you back.” Ward clapped against his shoulder. 

No one bothered him or made snide remarks as he changed, but he knew it was only a matter of time before someone said something. The uniform was a tad bit loose; he needed to bulk back up after six weeks of laying around. The vest was pulled over his chest, his badge pinned over that, but now his cleaned Clubmasters hung off his collar, his watch finding its place around his wrist since Callie had taken it to be repaired. 

All in all, he felt good. There was a sense of accomplishment coming back here. The world had tried bringing him down again, but he’d fought his way back to the surface. 

“Let’s bounce, Fogteeth.” Ward cracked, but Nick only rolled his eyes when a few heads turned. 

There was no warm welcome from his captain in the briefing room, but Nick preferred it that way. Standing alone didn’t bother him the same any longer. He counted the people by his side, and that was all he needed. They sat slacked in their seats as morning briefings were announced, and they rose when their routes were given, and with idle chatting they made their way to the kit room, grabbing their shotguns before making their way out of the building. 

Nick’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he opened it to find a message from Callie.

**2 things: 1- i forgot to pay my rent 4 days ago and now i owe an extra $450. 2- ya girl got the job**

He snickered. **Might as well renege on the lease. I knew you’d score that job, i’m proud of you baby**

“Callie got a job,” Nick announced, slipping his phone back into his pocket as they approached the cruiser. 

“That’s what’s up. Don’t you two go actin’ a fool again,” Ward quipped, both of them taking their sides in the car with Nick behind the wheel as usual. 

“Nah, I’ve been thinking of asking her to move in,” Nick exhaled, reacquainting with all the controls and adjusting his seat. 

“Already?” Ward asked, leaning against the door comfortably. 

Nick put his Clubmasters on, nodding after he questioned himself. 

_Fuck yeah already._

 

 

 

To be continued . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, the ending to Bell Peppers!  
> To everyone who has come along on this journey with me and stuck around for ride; to the likes, kudos, comments and feedback on the story and art, thank you so much from the deepest corners of my heart! You all kept me inspired to keep writing and keep uploading! 
> 
> Milagro is already in the works, so keep a lookout for Nick and Callie's return! 
> 
> Translations: Ukmall - "small"


End file.
